Lord Potter: Head of House
by GhostofthePhoenix
Summary: HUGE AU. Gringotts Goblins uncover a fascinating secret about a young wizard with a lightning bolt scar. This secret opens the door to a world of possibilities and a world of...girls? Harry Potter/Harem, loving Dumbledore, living/freed Sirius, eventually nice Snape, powerful Harry, darkish Ron. Huge plot with lots of fluff and smut down the road. I own nothing. Beta: DEATH112233
1. Chapter 1: Lord Who?

This story was requested by a good friend of mine who wanted me to write two alternate reality of her two favorite book series Harry Potter and Percy Jackson. She wanted both stories to deal with what would happen if both Harry and Percy, two characters extremely loyal to friends, were forced to have a harem that they would be dominant over. She also gave me some outlines she would like me to follow. Following contains slight spoilers to the story. If you don't want to know who will be included or what changes will be made, than skip the next two paragraphs.

She asked me to make the PJO story be after Blood of Olympus and Percy forcibly being turned into the replacement of Eros. The girls needed to include at least Annabeth as mistress, Calypso, Piper, Artemis and hunters, Hestia, Clarisse, Rachel, Reyna and Khione. Percy must deal with his new position as well as his new instincts of being dominant.

She asked that Harry Potter should start as normal and contain most of the 7 years and some beyond. She wanted Harry to be the heir of at least one of the founders and maybe someone more powerful. She wanted some OOC characters including a dick/jealous/idiot Ron Weasley, nice Pansy Parkinson, loving and regretful Dumbledore, eventual nice Snape, and a living Sirius. She also requested that I lower the ages of Tonks and Fleur to about 2 years older than Harry and bring the age of Gabrielle up to Harry's age. Given Tonks will be taken, Remus will be happily married. She wanted for Harry be at least, Ginny Weasley, Susan Bones, Daphne Greengrass, Hermione Granger, Fleur and Gabrielle Delacour, Su Li and Nymphadora Tonks. She requested that at least one of the girls to have a slave bond that, like Percy, forces Harry to be a dominant.

While this does seem to be a lot for one person to request all I can say is I am totally whipped, and I owed her a favor. Cassie, these are for you.

Huge shout out to Fantasy1290 and their story DUEL. Thank you for a couple ideas including how to get the whole harem started, and how to include Fleur and Gabby.

Huge shout out to Lord BladeDSF and his story Harry Potter and the Heir of Magic. Thank you for the idea of introducing a new school house.

Chapter 1

Lord Who?

October 31, 1981

All Hallows Eve, also known as Halloween, I s a time of celebration and festivities. This one was no different. People were walking the streets, some dressed in outlandish costumes, others holding tightly to children who cutely begged all who would listen for a morsel of something sweet. Few paid attentions to the large black dog that trotted past. Its tail did not wag, it's posture was not playful. It looked like a dog aiming to kill. Those who did notice quickly gave the ferocious looking beast a wide berth, some withdrawing mobiles to call Animal Control, before shaking their heads and continuing as though nothing had happened after the mutt had left their field of vision.

The dog continued its determined path, it's nose twitching ever few seconds. The rat was close, he could smell it. Filthy traitor, he deserved what was coming. Streets passed in a blur, but the dog didn't notice. The smell was strongest now, if he could just trace it. A sound caught his ear and a can skittered out of the dark alleyway next to him. With a gleam in his eye, the dog turned down the alley.

Deep in the darkest corner, a shadow of a man was scrabbling about, wallets, purses, mobiles, watches and jewelry scattered around him.

"I-I've done it, I've done it!" the shadow whispered frantically, "He will be so-so proud of me. All because of me."

A mad giggle echoed off the walls as the dog sat just within the shadows of the narrow road.

"Hello Peter, Long time no see."

The dark form in the corner stiffened at the voice. Slowly, the figure turned light from the gibbous moon illuminating half of a short man with a greasy face, watery eyes that shone with panic, a pointed nose, and protruding teeth.

"Sirius," the now identified Peter gasped, staring at the alley way entrance. There stood a tall man, strikingly handsome, wearing a long black trench coat, and a black fedora hat with white ink splotches that moved randomly pulled low hiding his face. Steel colored eyes shone out from the shadows.

"I-It has been a long time, o-old friend," Peter said, his breathing rapid and shallow, "How are James and Lilly?"

A fist connected with the short man's jaw, snapping his face around.

"Don't you dare, speak their names traitor," the one called Sirius growled, "you no longer have that right."

"T-t-traitor? Sirius whatever could you mean?" Peter whimpered, holding his jaw.

"You know damn well what I mean!" Sirius exclaimed, emphasizing each of the first three words with a punch.

"S-S-Sirius, please! What are you talking about!" the short man blubbered, "I've done nothing!"

"Nothing?" the taller man roared, "You betrayed them! We trusted you with their most important secret, and you told HIM!"

Peter struggled to his feet, only to collapse again as another fist collided with his face, sending a spray of crimson to paint the nearest wall.

"You. Told. Him," Sirius growled once more.

Peter rose to his hands and knees, chuckling coldly.

"Oh, that," the stout man spat some blood off to the side before rising to his knees, "Yes, I did."

"Why!" Sirius bellowed, hands clenching up again, "We trusted you!"

"Did you? Really?" Peter retorted, standing, "Did you really trust me, Rorschach?"

Sirius froze, his eyes wide, fist drawn back.

"Oh, you thought I didn't know?" Peter hissed, pulling out a long thin piece of wood, "How could you say you trusted me, and then keep something like that from me. I betrayed no one, Rorschach, you betrayed me."

"That holds no consequence! You never could match up to me, or James, or Remus. But you should not have turned your back on those who have done so much for your pathetic ass."

"But nothing!" the enraged man screams, "I should have that honor, I should be among those ranks."

Sirius dodged a beam of bright yellow light that issued from Peter's stick, withdrawing a similar one from his jacket. With a flick, a dull orange light sped from the stick towards Peter, who quickly waved his own. A pale blue dome appeared around the shorter one, deflecting the orange bolt into the sky.

People out on the street paused in astonishment as multicolored lights glared from a dark alley. Some withdrew cameras, while others simply pointed and stared. A few started clapping as the brilliant lights continued, most thinking it was some Halloween show. But all gasped and ducked to the side when a figure flew from the darkened opening. The man grunted in pain when he landed, but he quickly struggled to his feet. The crowd pressed itself against the walls as they took in this stranger. He was tall with long black hair and a pointed goatee. His face was bruised, and he held long stick in his hand. But what frightened even the toughest man in the crowd, were his eyes. The steel grey orbs shone of murder and hate.

"Why did you betray them, Sirius! You murdered them!" a new voice shouted. All eyes turned back to the alleyway as a short man with a pointed nose staggered out into the open street.

"You lying son of a…"

What happened next nobody knows for sure. One moment, two men were staring each other down in the middle of the street, the next the short man had the tall stranger up against a wall, a hand pressed against the 'murderer's' jacket. Some later claimed that the watery eyed man had teleported.

Sirius grimaced at the incredible strength that held him against the wall, though he was glad his wand was still held tightly in his hand.

"This is where it all ends," Peter said lowly, the manic gleam reentering his eyes, "This is where the last of the Great Unspeakable Trio dies."

"Not today," Sirius whispered. His wand started to glow a sickeningly purple. Suddenly, the streets around him erupted into chaos. Explosions blew hot air on his face, and fire licked at the buildings around him. People were screaming, some in pain, others in panic.

"No, NO!" Sirius cried, struggling in the impossible grip of his former friend, "Peter, what did you…ack." His words were cut off, as a terrible weight settled in his stomach. A weight that felt unnatural, and cold. The purple glow emanating from his wand died instantly.

"Struggle all you want," Peter said, the flames reflecting in his insane blue eyes, "No one will ever believe you, traitor."

LP:HoH

The sun wasn't even up yet when a young 11-year-old boy was dragged from the closet under the stairs by his hair.

"Get up, Boy. What are you doing asleep! You haven't even started breakfast!" Harry's uncle stood over him, belt in hand. Harry looked up at his large uncle from his place on the floor. It was much too early to be getting up, even for him. He was about to say something, to ask why he was up early, when metal whistled through the air. Harry barely had a second to brace himself, protecting his head before the buckle of Vernon's belt struck his back, leaving another long gash down his back. He winced at the pain but didn't say anything. He had learned long ago that saying something only made it worse.

Slowly he stood up, ignoring the throbbing from his side and back, walked to the kitchen and started preparations for breakfast. As he pulled out the pots and pans he needed to create the large breakfast always required, he remembered just why he had already gotten hit. It was Dudley's birthday today and that always meant more torment. Harry sighed. He was miserable, but he couldn't do anything about it. Once breakfast was finished he set the table, and kept the food warm, careful to not dry it out lest he got another beating.

After breakfast was served Harry sat on the floor in the corner of the room trying to stay out of sight as Dudley tore through his gifts. So far, the only upside for the day had been when he was grudgingly informed that he would accompany the Dursleys to the zoo as his usual baby sitter was ill.

"Freak, come here and clean up," screeched his aunt before she turned to her son and continued in a coddling tone, "Come on, Duddykins, let's get ready to go to the zoo."

As soon as she left the room, Harry hurried from his corner and started picking up the mess of wrappings, and paper. He had barely finished when Vernon entered the room and gave him a resounding kick to his rear, sending him sprawling face first into the ground.

"Get up boy, we're leaving."

Harry dragged himself to his feet. He started moving to the door, when he felt his uncle's fat hand grab his hair and jerk his face around until they were standing face to face, the older man's rancid breath washing over his face, making his eyes sting and his nose run.

"I want you to behave yourself. None of your freakish stuff or I'll have to punish you."

Internally Harry sighed. Whenever his uncle promised punishment, no matter what he did or didn't do, he always received a beating with Vernon's favorite studded belt.

Nodding his assent, Harry walked to the car, ignoring his pain as his back twinged with every step.

The ride to the zoo was one of great discomfort for Harry. The gash on his back had stopped its minimal bleeding and simply throbbed. The cracked rib from the kicking he had received earlier in the week was aching and his rear end was bruised. With every bump of the car, all three would pulse with pain. He would have groaned but he knew that if he had it would only lead to more pain.

Admittedly walking around the Zoo well behind the Dursleys was indeed nice. He stopped to watch various animals romp in their pen, or sleep stretched out in the sun. The only downside was when he entered the reptile house. Keeping as far from his cousin as he could, he walked over and started a nice conversation with a boa constrictor. That is, until his cousin shoved him aside to get a good look at the snake curled up by the glass. Except there was no glass and the snake was curling itself around Dudley. Harry told the snake to let go, but one glance at his Uncle, he knew he was in for a painful night.

…

Deep within the depths of Gringotts Bank a vault glowed white as the magic of the new Lord Emrys and Heir of Merlin, made itself known. A surge of magic streamed out in a large shockwave from Vault 1, felt by every goblin present. Elder Grangock, head of the bank, leapt to his feet, and hurried to the cart that would take him below to the vaults. He had only felt magic like that only once before and that had been when young James Potter had come with his parents before his first year at Hogwarts. The cart stopped of its own accord in front of the Potter Family vault, and Grangock stared at it in wonder. Glowing on the door, was a large shield with an ornate triskelion in the center. Below it ancient runes were starting to show. Awed the elderly Goblin read:

 _Darkness surges on the horizon_

 _And a wizard by his family, Emrys will wizen._

 _The magic of his heir has been made known_

 _And with help from people all his own_

 _Shall he strike the darkness to oblivion._

 _Bring him forth, and give him his rings of obsidian_

 _For, Lord Emrys-Black-Potter shall lead the wizarding world to new heights._

Pulling a piece of parchment from the cart, Grangock quickly muttered a spell, copying the symbol and words onto the sheet. Once the copy had been made the words and symbol faded and the glow left the door. Turning, the elder goblin rode the cart back to his office. Pulling out a second sheet of parchment, he penned a letter to the magical guardian of the only living Potter explaining what had happened and requesting both his and the young Lord's presence at their earliest convenience. Making a duplicate of the prophecy, he tied both to a large barn owl. Watching the owl leave, the goblin rubbed a long finger against his temple. The Potter family had long been considered Friends of Goblins, and if the ancient bloodline, descended from Merlin himself, had produced a magical heir, then it was high time the goblins chose a side.

…

Sitting at his desk, Albus Dumbledore was again questioning his decision to put Harry with his relatives almost ten years before. He knew that those muggles hated magic, but at the time it had been the best place for him and he had hoped that the Dursleys would put aside their hatred and love the boy. Sirius had been arrested, and, while Dumbledore knew he was innocent, had been sent to Azkaban without a trial and all evidence in support of the best friend to James Potter had been ignored. The blood magic surrounding the house was protecting the boy, but the wards had slowly been weakening. Arabella Figg, a squib who had been good friends with the boy's mother, had been tasked with keeping an eye on him. However, that had immediately run into issues when Petunia Dursley had immediately refused to be friendly at all with her, except for the request to watch Harry a few times when. Arabella had sent several concerns to the Headmaster, stating that a few times Harry had bruises all along his face and had refused to sit or touch his back and had always been in clothes much to large, but Albus had dismissed her concerns. Now he wasn't so sure.

The aged professor was jolted out of his worrying when a large eagle owl flew in through the open window and alighted on his desk. The owl had a letter tied to its leg bearing the seal of Gringotts.

Dumbledore swiftly untied the letter and started reading, giving the owl a soft scratch. However, his hand froze and he sat up straight in his chair as he continued reading. Finishing the letter he looked at the accompanying parchment and the runes inscribed upon it.

Dropping the message, he fell back in his chair in shock. The Potters had always been an exceptionally powerful family. In fact, Lord Charlus Potter had even rivaled the old wizard in power and had been essential in the war against Grindewald, before sacrificing himself to save his family during the first war with Voldemort.

"It appears, my family has finally produced an heir of my great grandfather," a deep baritone voice stated behind him.

Without turning, Dumbledore nodded his head.

"Indeed Godric. I just hope I am up to the task of protecting him and his own."

"You have proven to be more than adequate in the past."

"Have I? I couldn't keep Sirius from prison, I couldn't save the Potters, nor the Longbottoms. Will I be able to take care of young Harry?"

"We have complete faith in you, Albus," a new feminine voice joined the first.

Finally turning, the elder wizard finally looked at the portraits of the founders. All four were alive and moving, all staring straight at him.

"I hope your right," was all he said.

…

Morning came, and for Harry it was one of the most painful he had had in a long time. Stifling a groan, he sat up stiffly his back and side pounding from the beating he had received the previous night. Vernon had been incensed at what had happened to his precious Dudley and had dragged Harry into their room before laying into him with the belt. Once he had finished, Harry had been shoved into the closet and the door locked after him. Rising to his knees, he tried the door only to find it still locked. His back had stopped bleeding sometime during the night and had scabbed over, but his shirt was still stiff with the blood he had lost. He peeled the shirt off and replaced it with the only other shirt he had. Lying on his stomach, he braced himself for another day with no food, locked in his cupboard, his back itching as the wounds knitted back together.

He heard his aunt working in the kitchen muttering the whole time, complaining profusely about ungrateful brats who just don't understand when they have it good.

And then the doorbell rang. That almost never happened as no one ever called at the Dursley house. When the postman came with the occasional parcel, he simply left it on the bench by the door, afraid of the volcano that was Vernon Dursley.

Outside of Harry's closet, Petunia stalked to the door angrily cursing whoever was on the other side. Vernon came out of the sitting room where he had been watching some cage matches with Dudley, still in a foul mood, ready to scream at whomever had disturbed his peace.

"What do you want!" yelled Petunia as she yanked the door open, only for her eyes to go wide in fright. Quickly she scanned the street to see if anyone was looking. Seeing Ms. Figg, the annoying cat woman who sometimes watched Harry, she hurriedly pulled the old man dressed in the violently purple robes into the house before slamming the door.

"What do you want," she hissed again at the Headmaster.

"Your one of those freaks aren't you!" Vernon yelled, quickly going puce.

"Freaks?" Dumbledore cocked an eyebrow, his electric blue eyes twinkling madly.

"Yeah, just like him," the walrus jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the stairs.

"By 'him' I assume you mean young Harry?" Dumbledore questioned, a horrible feeling sinking in his stomach.

Dursley sneered at the wizard. "Yeah, now what do you want, and GET OUT!" he screamed, spittle flying everywhere.

Turning to Petunia, Dumbledore said calmly, "I'm here to take your nephew. It is time he went to school."

"SCHOOL!" the enraged Vernon screamed "I WILL NOT ALLOW HIM TO GO WITH SOME FREAK SHOW TO LEARN MORE OF THAT UNNATURAL DEVILISH POWER. HE WILL GO TO PUBLIC SCHOOL AND LIKE IT."

Turning Dumbledore raised his wand and aimed the point at the furious man's chest, the tip glowing a bright orange.

Dursley paled, turned and walked to the cupboard under the stairs. Throwing the locks open, he pulled the door open and pushed a bedraggled, stiff Harry out of the closet.

Looking up Harry, took in the scene before him. A tall, elegant man was standing in the middle of the sitting room next to his aunt, a stick in his hand, dressed in shimmering purple robes. Looking at him, Harry felt a calm rush over him. He sensed that this man could be trusted. He felt a hand on his back and flinched at the throbbing pain it created.

"Here," came his uncles voice trembling with rage "Take him. Take him to that devilish school. But once he leaves, I never want to see him again."

Dumbledore looked over Harry and the feeling in his stomach sank lower. The boy was tall, but horribly thin and malnourished and looked forlorn and unloved. That revelation shook him to his core. The reason the wards were failing was because they were based on love.

"Hello Harry, I'm Professor Albus Dumbledore."

Harry shook the proffered hand with a small smile.

"Pleased to meet you Professor. Can I really leave?"

The headmaster returned the smile, his eyes giving a kind twinkle.

"Of course," He turned to the Dursleys, his smile turning forced. "I do hope you have a good day."

He put a hand on Harry's shoulder and guided him out the door. Once outside and the door shut, he turned and flourished his wand at the door before guiding Harry down the street towards his sitter's house.

"Sir, what did you do with that stick?" Harry asked curiously as he walked.

"I will explain everything once we reach our destination, Harry, never fear."

The boy nodded, his polite demeanor overriding his curiosity. Albus opened the front gate to the homely house that Harry frequently visited and knocked at the front door.

"Come in, come in," Mrs. Figg said kindly, opening the door. She gave Harry a big hug before shaking Dumbledore's hand.

"Thank you for letting us use your floo, Arabella," the old man said to the older woman with a warm as he picked his way around the cats snoozing on the carpet, heading to the large fireplace.

"Anytime Albus. I'm just glad I could finally be of help getting Harry away from those awful people," the batty old woman responded, giving the boy's arm a firm squeeze, sending a cold glare at the old man.

Motioning Harry over, the headmaster held a large urn of green colored ash, "Take a handful Harry. Good, now, throw it into the fire and say, 'Leaky Cauldron.' Make sure you enunciate clearly. When the fire turns green, step into the flames. Don't worry it won't hurt you. You'll feel like your spinning very quickly. Once you see an opening in front of you, step forward like your walking, else you'll get ejected most uncomfortably."

Harry nodded, his head spinning with unasked questions. Walking to the blazing fire, he threw in his handful of the green ash and shouted, "Leaky Cauldron!" before stepping into the fire and disappearing.

Albus was about to follow when he felt a strong grip on his arm. Arabella Figg was staring up at him, fury burning in her steel grey eyes.

"Albus," the old woman hissed menacingly, "What in blazes were you thinking, putting that poor boy with those horrible pigs. Every time he came over to my place, I had to ensure he didn't enjoy it, otherwise I would have never seen him again. More than once, he has shown up with bruises that did not come from him being a child! Where were you these past ten years? I told you my concerns and you waved me off. That boy is hurting, and it is your fault. Remember that."

The rebuke ringing fresh in his ears, the ancient wizard threw a pinch of powder into the fireplace, calling out, "The Leaky Cauldron."

A curious scene met him as he stepped into the old pub. Harry was backed into a corner, literally, by a crowd of wizards and witches, each trying to touch him, everyone talking at once. Harry's eyes were wide with fear, as he tried to press his way through the crowd. Albus pulled his wand and released a burst of magic.

The establishment fell silent at the cannon blast, "Alright, yes, thank you all for giving Mr. Potter such a warm welcome. But this is the first time he has been in our world in ten years. Please give him time to adjust to our ways before you greet him."

Slowly the crowd dispersed, the patrons slowly finding their way back to the abandon tables. Albus quickly grasped Harry's shoulder and maneuvered him away from the prying eyes.

Finding a booth in a corner, the aged wizard sat, motioned Harry to do the same, and waved down a server, asking for a nice cup of hot tea.

"Now, my dear boy, has there been any times in your life where strange things seem to happen while your around?" he queried, turning back the scarred boy.

"Strange how, sir?"

"Things suddenly disappearing, or strange items just showing up right in front of you. Anything, growing unnaturally or dying suddenly."

Harry was stunned, not quite sure how to answer. He stared at the twinkling blue eyes, trying to find just a hint of hostility. Finding none, he trusted his gut feeling, and laid out many such incidences.

He told how his hair had regrown over night after his aunt had shaved it, how his teacher's hair had turned blue. He told how cuts and bruises were healed by the end of the day. He also told of the glass at the zoo. Each time, he carefully manipulated the story to keep any form of violence and abuse out.

Dumbledore eased back into his seat, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Harry, what do you know of magic?"

"It's a fairy tale, sir. In bedtime stories, the hero or his companion can manipulate reality through magic, making sure justice is served."

Inwardly, Albus was disappointed, but not surprised. He had so hoped that Harry's muggle relatives would at least have the decency to tell their nephew just who he really was.

"That is not quite true, dear boy."

Harry raised an eyebrow at his companion, wondering what he could ever mean by that. Just the mere mention of magic or anything unnatural towards his relatives would have gotten him a beating, making him learn to never believe in it, despite his own unnaturalness.

With a secretive smile, Dumbledore pulled out his wand, conjured a cup, and filled it with water.

Offering the glass to the wide-eyed boy, he explained, "Magic is very real, Harry. Everyone sitting in this pub is a witch or a wizard. Including you. Every single incident you told me about was caused by you. Your magic caused that. We call that accidental magic. The school I'm taking you to is a place where young witches and wizards like yourself go to learn to control their magic and to use it."

"So I'm a wizard?" Harry asked, staring at a man sitting at an adjacent table reading out a floating book, his cup of tea stirring itself.

"As were your parents," the professor responded with a kind smile.

"M-my parents?"

"Your parents were some of my best students, a little mischievous at times though. It was a great loss to many when they died that night."

"You mean, in the car crash?" came the whispered response.

Dumbledore was flabbergasted, "A car crash wouldn't have been able to kill James and Lilly Potter. Who told you such a ridiculous story?"

"My relatives."

The aged headmaster was furious. He should have never entrusted those pea-brained, short sighted muggles with the savior of the wizarding kind.

"Your parents died fighting an evil wizard who was trying to take over the world. That fight resulted in that scar on your forehead, but also the loss of a wonderful couple."

Harry stared into nothingness, still processing the information. He was a wizard as were his parents. At first it had been a little hard to believe, but with the proof sitting all around him he couldn't deny the fact. It certainly explained many of the incidents in his life, but then there was how his parents had died.

"My Lord Potter."


	2. Chapter 2: Explanations and Meetings

**_AN: I know the numbers in Harry's vaults seem way out there, but I'm also taking into account thousands of years of interest in the Emrys and Gryffindor Vaults. I also freely admit to Authors License._**

 ** _UPDATE 10/9/17: Thank you to those who pointed out the monetary value of the galleons. I did a little economic research and also borrowed from my great someodd grandfather's success during the oil boom during the mid 1800s. We are still receiving income from his wise choices. I hope what I have revised helps to even out Harry's obscene wealth. I do admit to being a little over eager when I first wrote this. Chapter 4 Shopping and Jealousy will be out soon! Also please vote on my new poll Slave Bellatrix or Ally Bellatrix._**

 _Previously:_

 _When he was young, he had been told that his parents had died in a car crash. His father had been a drunk, and his mother a whore. But finding out that they had died protecting him from an evil wizard had shocked him._

 _"My Lord Potter."_

Chapter Two

Explanations, Dinner, and Goblin Meetings

A quiet feminine voice startled him out of his reverie. Turning quickly, Harry found a cute, red headed girl standing next to him, her hands folded in front of her, eyes downcast.

Looking at her he felt a weird connection to this girl. It felt as if his whole body was tingling and for some strange reason he felt superior to this girl. He wanted to order her to do something, maybe to get his slippers, or perhaps rub his back. Harry quickly shook his head to squash those ideas. He was about to ask the pretty girls name when he felt another gaze on him.

A stern looking woman wearing a monocle had come up behind her and was now looking down at him with a scrutinizing look. 'Perhaps she is the girls mother,' Harry thought, swallowing nervously.

Dumbledore was a little surprised and slightly disappointed at the appearance of Amelia Bones. He had wanted to try and explain to Harry the history of the wizarding world and the culture. He had also wanted to explain the history of the Potter family as a Most Noble and Most Ancient House and all that entailed, including the marriage contract Lily and James Potter had set up with one of Lily's best friends, Lucy Bones, for her daughter Susan who was only a month younger than Harry. Unfortunately, Lucy had been killed along with her husband by Death-eaters in the first war. But he was never one to turn away past, present or future students.

"Madame Bones, such a pleasant surprise," he exclaimed jovially.

"Professor, so good to see you," Amelia responded with a warm smile, her stern mask dropping for the grandfatherly professor.

"Harry, this is a former student of mine, Amelia Bones and her niece Susan. Susan will be joining you at Hogwarts this year and I hope you can be friends." Dumbledore continued with a humored twinkle in his eye as he saw Harry blush and extend his hand to Madame Bones for a hand shake with a 'pleased to meet you Ma'am'.

Receiving a clear 'I'll-explain-later' look from the professor, the stern woman gave Harry a warm smile and shook his hand briskly. Harry turned and offered the same nicety to her niece but was extremely confused when the girl curtsied with a quiet 'My Lord.'

With another look from Dumbledore, Amelia put a hand on her niece's shoulder and, with another smile and a nod at the professors request to join them for dinner, led her away.

Harry turned to the Headmaster with a confused and scared look.

"Professor, what was that about? Why did that girl call me Lord? Why did I feel all tingly? And why did I feel like I was better than her? I'm not better than..." Harry cut his rambling off at the amused but sad, sympathetic look his companion was giving him.

"I was hoping we could have a little more time before I told you this Harry," Albus sighed looking every bit his age.

Sitting forward, he started, "Harry what do you know of the Dark and Middle Ages?"

Harry looked contemplative, "From what I could read, it was a time of absolute monarchy, and hierarchies. There was a definite order to things. Each area had a ruler, who had a ruler over him, and so on until the king. Marriages were decided by the parents and male children were wanted most as they would carry on the family name. The woman's place was at home while the man provided for the family."

Albus nodded encouragingly, "That's correct Harry. It was up until that time that magic was widely known by muggles. In fact, most towns had at least one witch and wizard. The witch was often the town healer and midwife while the wizard, who are usually more powerful, often acted as town elder. If anyone needed anything, they went to their towns mages. But then a bitter king took the throne. He claimed that magic was evil and should be stomped out. He was backed by many nobles who wanted that power for themselves. They convinced the people of the evils of magic and turned them against us. Magical people went into hiding, forming their own government within the heart of Britain, and the Statute of Secrecy was written. From then on, the Wizarding culture has never left the dark ages. Now, of course, there have been some brave muggleborns who have introduced some differences, for example, we use a train from Kings Cross Station to transport students to Hogwarts. But the hierarchy you described is still very much in play. Family lineage is very important to us, as is nobility," the old man paused to take a sip of his cooling tea. He was hesitant to bring up betrothal contracts as that might lead to some unwanted questions. Replacing his tea cup, he continued, "Nobility is determined by a few things. One, how far back the family line can be traced. Two, wealth, three, general magical ability, and four, the deeds of it's members. Your family is one of two Most Noble and Most Ancient Houses. All other noble houses are either, Most Noble and Ancient, Noble and Ancient, Most Noble, or just Noble. The heads of such houses are addressed as Lord or Lady and members of any of these houses are respected and often hold power within our government. There is a hierarchy however to the noble houses. Did you notice the word I put in front of some of the titles?"

Harry nodded, "You used the term 'most' for some."

Albus beamed, "That's correct. The more words before a house determines its place in the hierarchy. A Most Noble house has a higher standing than a Noble house. A Noble and Ancient has a little more standing than a Most Noble house, because of it's age, so forth and so forth."

Harry nodded in understanding, until the professor's previous words sank into his head.

"Y-y-you said my family is one of two Most Noble and Most Ancient?" Harry stuttered.

Dumbledore nodded, "That is correct, meaning that your house is one of the two most powerful."

"Meaning, I'm a Lord?" he whispered. Seeing the affirming nod from his soon to be teacher he continued, "But sir, I'm just me. I can't be a Lord. I can understand being a wizard, it explains a lot, but a Lord? I'm not of noble blood!"

Dumbledore reached across their table and grasped his shoulder gently, giving him a sympathetic smile.

"I know it's hard to take in, Harry but it's who you are. You will learn, and you will be the best Lord Potter to date," the professor looked at his watch and found it to be early afternoon, "Why don't you go upstairs and get comfortable in your room. We are going to be here until it is time to go to school. I would also like to give you a few lessons in formal behavior before our dinner tonight. I'll have some food sent up."

Harry nodded, stood, and headed unsteadily for the stairs. As the grandfatherly wizard watched the departing figure, he worried about what he had observed from the boy. Harry did not act like an almost 11-year-old. He seemed to have been forced to grow up to fast. But the most concerning part for Albus had been what he had felt under Harry's shirt and the way he had flinched when being touched. He had so hoped that in his old age he had been going senile. The old man snorted, maybe he was.

Giving a sad sigh, he stood and walked from the small private booth they had been sitting at, into the main part of the pub. Immediately, his practiced ears were drawn to the sound of a child sniffling quietly. Following the sound, he found Amelia sitting at another table in a secluded corner holding a large bundle in her arms. Immediately worried, Dumbledore made his way over. Placing a hand on Madam Bone's shoulder, he sat across from her.

At his touch the stern head of the DMLE looked up, revealing the bundle in her arms to be a crying Susan.

"My dear Susan, whatever is the matter?" the headmaster asked quietly, with a sneaking suspicion as to the reason of the tears.

"He doesn't want me," came the whispered response. "He barely even looked at me. Am I that hideous?"

His suspicions confirmed, the professor quickly placed a calming hand on the trembling girl.

"No, no my dear Susan. It has nothing to do with you at all. Harry has spent all his life growing up with muggles. Before today, he didn't even know he was a wizard much less the Lord of a Most Ancient and Most Noble House," he whispered comfortingly to the distraught young witch as her aunt held her. "That is why you must be patient with him," he continued, "I am hoping that with your, mine, and your aunt's help, we can turn him into a good man and the Lord he is supposed to be. Can you do that?"

She nodded into her Aunt's arms taking the time needed to compose herself. Getting her tears under control she sat up and moved to the chair beside her aunt.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, embarrassed by her little outburst, "I've been learning my whole life how to be a proper woman in high wizard society as a member of a Noble House. Then hearing all the stories about my betrothed and how he defeated You-Know-Who…" she sniffled a little and drew a ragged breath before sitting up straight, "A girl has her dreams and I got nervous that I wouldn't be up to par. I've grown up learning how to serve milord when the time comes, but when he barely acknowledged me, I panicked."

"It is perfectly understandable, and you did well. You did the Noble House of Bones proud," Dumbledore proclaimed, quietly, with a proud smile. He lowered his voice to a secretive level and looked her straight in the eye, "Now, Harry does not know yet of the betrothal, so please refrain from mentioning it at dinner tonight. For the moment though, I need to talk with your aunt."

Susan gave him a small smile and a nod. Glancing at her aunt, she stood and left to ask Tom the barman for some tea for the three of them.

Turning to Amelia, Dumbledore took off his glasses and rubbed his temple trying hard to alleviate the fears about Harry's wellbeing.

"Amelia, I made a terrible mistake when I put Harry with those muggles. My worst fears were more than realized. They have not treated him well, not well at all. As I do not know the extent of his mistreatment, I will be keeping a close eye on him over the school year. When the year ends, I will call upon you for a child abuse case."

Madame Bones looked at him sharply. "Surely you do not mean that professor," she said, slightly shocked.

"I wish I didn't. I just hope he'll forgive me, one day. But one thing is for sure, he is never going back."

…

Dinner that night was a jovial and exciting affair for Harry. Dumbledore had magically shrunk his clothes until they fit perfectly and had transfigured a piece of cloth into a nice button-down shirt Harry wore open over his t shirt. Satisfied with how he looked, the Professor then taught Harry the basics of acting as a Lord should. He found it to be quite easy as Harry was a naturally polite boy. It did take him a little time however, to convince Harry that as a Lord, he should allow himself to be called Lord Potter, at least in public and especially formal events.

At 7:00 Harry and the professor were waiting in a private dining room that Tom had furnished with a lavish semi-formal dinner. They were sitting comfortably in overstuffed arm chairs in front of the fireplace with their backs to the door, waiting for their guests. Harry was reading a book from the small pub library entitled _Spells and Magic for Dummies_. It was a fascinating book and covered basic spells, the history of magic and basic culture for muggle-born wizards. While he didn't have a wand, he still practiced the wand movements with an extended finger, whispering the incantations. Dumbledore was sitting in the chair across from him watching astonished as with each whispered spell, an item on the coffee table in front of Harry would jolt or move in accordance to the spell. A weak breaking curse cracked a teacup spilling some of the tea. Within a second later the crack was gone when Harry whispered _reparo_ and flicked his finger. Whispering quietly, Harry read on, oblivious to what was occurring in front of him. Albus was amazed. He had never seen anyone perform wandless magic so easily. But, it made sense. Merlin was the only wizard to ever reach sorcerer levels of magic. It would only make sense that Harry would be as powerful, and a natural at wandless magic.

Another quiet "My Lord Potter," pulled Harry from his book. Setting the book down he rose and turned to find Susan and her aunt both standing before him. Madame Bones was dressed in the same comfortable dark green robes as before, her eyes scrutinizing him, taking in every detail. Beside and in front of her stood Susan, her eyes once again downcast, her arms again folded against her dark red, ankle length dress.

Harry gave her a large smile and small bow.

"Miss Bones, Madame Bones, thank you for joining us."

His quiet statement made her look up at him. The tingling, which had returned when he had first set eyes on her again, increased and the feeling of superiority intensified. Unconsciously he straightened his stance a little. Immediately, Susan averted her eyes back to the floor. Noticing her reaction, he pushed that feeling back down and relaxed his posture. Holding his hand out to her as Dumbledore had taught him, he asked quietly, "Will you join us, Miss Bones."

The girl dipped into a curtsy and, taking his proffered hand, looked at him briefly before lowering her eyes yet again.

"Please, my Lord, call me Susan."

Harry glanced at his teacher. At the nod of assent, he gave her another smile.

"Only if you call me Harry."

Susan looked up at him sharply, surprise written clearly on her face.

Giving her an encouraging smile, the young Lord released her hand and pulled her chair out.

After she was sitting, he moved to the chair next to her and sat himself in it.

Once everyone was seated, the food served itself and they dug in with gusto. Harry, had never had a meal like this and enjoyed every bit of it. They talked and laughed about various thing, Harry regaled them with a slightly exaggerated story of Dudley and the snake, carefully leaving out all mention of any beating or pain he had suffered. Dumbledore told a story about a prank that had been played on him early in his teaching career. Madame Bones told a couple of stories about idiotic criminals who had not planned their escape well. Through it all Susan sat, trying hard to keep from blushing every time Harry's hand brushed against hers.

The food gone, the plates gathered themselves and floated back to the kitchen as Dumbledore stood.

"Well, that certainly was delightful," he started as everyone else stood, "It was good to see you again Madame Bones, Miss Bones, however I'm afraid it is high time we went to bed. It has been a long day for Harry."

The elder Bones nodded in agreement, "Indeed it has. We must be getting home as well."

Harry turned to the younger Bones at his side.

"It has been fun evening. I hope to see you again, Susan" he told her sincerely.

Susan looked at him with a shy smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, at the reading of your parents will. Sleep well, my Lor… Harry," she corrected herself with a blush. She hesitated for a second before turning to her aunt. Harry smiled and watched as she followed her aunt out the door.

Harry could feel an attraction and connection to the girl, He didn't know how to explain it, but he felt that she would be a great support and service to him in his life. It was a little discomforting but also calming. He couldn't shake the feeling that they would be great friends and all affection she gave him, no matter how little they knew each other would be perfectly acceptable.

"Very well done, Harry. Do know that you will not need to be this formal everywhere you go," the aged teacher said approvingly, "Now we really must get to bed. It is going to be another big day tomorrow."

Harry nodded and followed the professor out the room and up the stairs to the comfortable rooms Tom had provided. Searching through the drawers in the dresser he found a set of pajamas. Changing into them, he dropped onto his bed, asleep before his head even touched the pillow.

…

The next morning, Harry awoke at the crack of dawn. Sitting up he looked around confused as to why he was in a room instead of his closet. Suddenly, the events of the previous day flooded back into memory. Jumping out of bed with a wide smile, he went to grab his clothing from the day before. He was a little shocked to see them sitting on the chair next to his bed freshly cleaned, pressed, and neatly folded. Shrugging, he pulled them on and went downstairs to wait for the professor. Walking into the main pub he was surprised to see the aged wizard already sitting at a table sipping a cup of tea and reading a newspaper.

"Good morning, Professor," he called alerting the man to his presence.

Dumbledore turned and looked over his half-moon spectacles his eyes twinkling a happy good morning.

"Yes, indeed it is a good morning, Harry. I must say, I am slightly surprised to see you awake this early," Albus states with a smile.

"It's a habit, sir. As they say, the early bird gets the worm."

"Hmm, yes indeed. A very true muggle saying. I am glad you are up however as we have a rather important appointment in a few hours."

"We do sir?"

"Yes, today we head to Gringotts to officially take on the title of Lord Potter as well as having the wills of your parents and your godfather read. I do not know why, but they sealed their own wills until you claimed your title."

Harry sat back in his chair and studied his mentor thoughtfully. Why would his parents seal their own will? Did they know that sending them to the Dursleys would be so painful for him? And who was his Godfather?"

Albus looked at him with an amused smile, guessing at the questions the boy obviously had running through his head.

"All your questions will be answered soon Harry, but first I have something for you." The professor reached into his robes and withdrew an envelope. Harry took the offered letter and opened it, examining the seal pressed into the back.

Withdrawing the parchment within, he read through the list of items he had to buy for school and his eyes widened.

"Sir, how am I going to pay for all of this?"

"We'll stop by your vault at Gringotts after our appointment. We'll get enough for you to pay for your school things."

"My vault, sir?"

Dumbledore chuckled, "Do you really think your parents would have left you with nothing?"

Harry blushed, "No sir, I guess not."

Albus laughed as Tom slid two plates of food onto the table in front of them.

Breakfast passed with the professor telling Harry more about the most common magical creatures of the wizarding world, particularly about house elves and their drive to serve, and about goblins and their greed and extreme formality. He instructed Harry in the Goblin way of etiquette and taught him about the lack of respect they received. Harry listened intently. He figured that if he was going to be a Lord, he would be the best, most well liked of them all. He had experienced cruelty, and wished it on no one.

The food long gone, the two stood and Harry followed Dumbledore to the back of the building. Walking out the door, Harry found himself in front of a brick wall. Stumped he looked at his companion. His teacher gave him a mischievous smile, pulled out his wand, and tapped a sequence of bricks. Seconds later, the wall melted away and Harry was staring down into a busy street.

"Welcome Harry, to Diagon Alley. The magical shopping district of London. Anything magical you need you can get here," Albus stated, stepping into the semi crowded street with a humored smile at Harry's astonished face.

"Amazing," Harry breathed, in awe of what he saw as he followed the wizard. Witches and wizards bustled by carrying packages, children were gathered around a shop called Quality Quidditch ogling at a broom displayed in the window. Here and there a diminutive creature wearing rags would pop in and head into a store with a small bag in hand.

"Professor, what are those. Those creatures right there?" he queried pointing to one exiting a store.

"Ah that would be a house elf. I believe I told you about them." Albus answered. Harry nodded dumbly, still in awe as he continued to look around. So intent was he in taking in his surroundings, he almost ran into a tall lithe man with thinning red hair.

"Pardon me, sir. I didn't see you there."

"It's quite alright young man, happens to the best of us."

Looking behind the man, Harry saw plump kindly looking woman step out of a shop, holding the hand of a ginger haired girl who looked a year younger than himself. A sense of familiarity washed over him as he looked at the family.

"Arthur, Molly, so good to see you. I assume you are here for the will reading."

"Professor Dumbledore!" the woman cried with a happy smile, "Yes, yes, we are. It was quite a surprise to receive the owl really. I didn't think we would be mentioned."

"Nonsense, you were some of the Potter's most trusted friends," the teacher snorted.

Harry froze at his words. Maybe he did know these people, at least when he was a baby. That would explain the familiar feeling. Dumbledore had explained that magic was a force that connected every living thing. Magical people could not only use that force, but could feel it as well and not to ignore the feeling. Albus had used the feeling Harry had felt when they had first met as an example. If he had a sudden feeling of trustworthiness while talking to someone, it was his magic telling him that person was someone he could trust or vice versa.

The headmaster's voice pulled him back into the conversation, "Where are my manners. Harry, this is Arthur Weasley, his wife Molly and their daughter, Ginny. Arthur, Molly, Ginny, this is Harry Potter."

At that, Arthur's mouth dropped open. Ginny squeaked and went to hide behind her mother's skirts only to find them gone as Molly scooped him into a big hug.

"It's so good to see you again Harry dear, you certainly have grown up," she murmured as she squeezed him. She set him back down and looked him over as Harry desperately tried to catch his breath.

"Oh dear. Have you been eating well dear? You look a bit hungry."

Harry laughed as he thought about the large dinner he had had the night before and the filling breakfast he and Dumbledore had just finished.

"Quite well actually. I have always been a bit skinny."

Molly and Dumbledore both frowned at that statement, remembering the large, healthy, mischievous baby that had delighted all those who met him.

"I hate to break up such a lovely reunion, but Harry and I have business to perform at Gringotts before the will is read," Dumbledore said quietly. Molly nodded and gave Harry another squeeze.

"We'll see you soon, Harry dear."

Harry returned her smile, waved at Ginny, who squeaked again and blushed madly, and extended his hand to Mr. Weasley, who shook it firmly. Turning he followed Dumbledore up the steps to the wizarding bank.

Entering the tall marble building, Harry felt nervous. He had no idea what exactly would transpire here, though he was a little excited as well. He froze at the entrance of the bank as he saw the creatures sitting at teller booths, counting out gold, rubies, and other precious stones. Turning around he read the inscription at the top of the door and gulped.

 _Enter, stranger, but take heed_  
 _Of what awaits the sin of greed_  
 _For those who take, but do not earn,_  
 _Must pay most dearly in their turn._  
 _So if you seek beneath our floors_  
 _A treasure that was never yours,_  
 _Thief, you have been warned, beware_  
 _Of finding more than treasure there_

Undaunted, the professor strode up to the front of the room, and Harry hurried to follow.

Reaching the podium that stood at the front of the large room, Dumbledore looked up at the Goblin who was busy counting out large gold coins into a bag.

The goblin, Snaggletooth, knew exactly who was standing in front of him and why they were there. He had heard about the kindness of the House Potter but wanted to test it for himself. Barely acknowledging the two wizards who stood before him, he continued his task of counting out the galleons in the money sack the previous wizard had given him.

Stacking the money in front of him, the goblin started counting out the stacks.

"5…10…15…" he muttered quietly to himself, trying to see if the young Potter lord would help him, wait patiently for him, or demand service. He was pleasantly surprised to hear a young voice come from in front of him.

"Forgive my interruption sir, but You have 235 galleons."

The goblin nearly fell out of his chair in shock at the young man's form of address. Never had anyone addressed him in such a way.

"Thank you, Lord Potter," Snaggletooth said loudly, causing the few wizards and witches present to turn and stare at the young boy, "It is not often a wizard will wait for a Goblin to finish a task, much less help him. Come, this way. Elder Grangock is waiting for us in the conference room."

The goblin hopped out of his chair and led them to a door in the far wall. Opening the door, Harry was escorted into a large circular room with chairs set up around half the perimeter. In the center was a large bowl holding a liquid that swirled around shimmering two different shades of blue.

Sitting at a large table at the far side of the room sat an elderly goblin, his eyes burning holes into Harry as if reading his very soul.

"Welcome, Lord Potter. Please have a seat," Grangock stated quietly gesturing to a chair in front of him.

Harry stepped up to the table and bowed a little before sitting.

"Thank you for seeing us Elder."

The old goblin was pleased at the politeness the boy had used and gave him a grimace of a smile.

"It is my pleasure Lord Potter. We are here today to award you the Lordship of two houses. At the end of today you will be given the Lordship of a third. Do you know the history of your family?"

"A little, but not a lot." Harry admitted a little shocked at what he had heard.

"I am assuming you have heard of Merlin?" the Goblin queried. At the affirming nod, he continued, "What many people don't realize is that Myrddin Emrys, better known as Merlin, and his wife Vivienne, better known as the Lady of the Lake, had a child named Madoc the Brave who took on the surname Gryffindor in honor of a royal griffin that saved his life. The grandson of Madoc was Godric Gryffindor who was one of the four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He married fellow founder Helga Hufflepuff. Together they had a son, Aurelius Gryffindor who was well known in his time for his transfiguration and muggle pottery. However, when his family was targeted by Morgan le Fay, he went into hiding at a castle he had built and changed his family's name to Potter. You Lord Potter, are descended from that same family. But there is something extra special about you. When a powerfully magical being dies, his or her magic becomes restless and moves on to find another, worthy of wielding it making that person a magical heir. Harry, your ancestor's magic has chosen you to be the Magical Heir of Merlin and the new Lord Emrys."

Harry's mouth dropped open at the revelation of his ancestry. Shakily, he looked over at Dumbledore who had a small smile on his face. Turning back to the goblin he asked, "What does that mean, sir."

The goblin grinned back. "What that means, Lord Emrys, is that you are now the most powerful wizard alive, financially, politically, and the potential to become the most powerful physically."

Harry was stunned. His mouth moved as he tried hard to think of something to say. Finally, he gave up, and looked at the goblin helplessly.

"What do we do now," he whispered.

"Now," the goblin responded holding up two boxes, "You claim your rightful titles."

Opening the smaller ornate ring box first, Gragnock removed a large gold signet ring. The stone was obsidian and inscribed in gold on the black face was a large shield with a triskelion in the center. The same symbol that had appeared on the vault door.

Dumbledore leaned over to whisper in Harry's ear.

"Hold out your right-hand Harry."

Complying, Harry held out his hand and the goblin slipped the ring onto his middle finger. The ring shrank until it fit his finger perfectly and then flashed gold.

"Greetings, Lord Emrys," intoned the goblins in the room with a bow. Following the headmasters whispered instructions, Harry inclined his head in acknowledgement.

Setting aside the smaller of the boxes, Elder Gragnock reached for a large rectangular box. Opening it, he showed the contents to Harry who stared at the line of rings.

"This box contains the needed rings if a Noble House were to fill all of its positions. The Lord's ring, lady's ring, the heir's rings, four consort rings, seven servant/vassal rings, seven concubine collars, and seven slave collars, though more can be created if you so desire." the goblin explained.

Harry was taken aback at the mention of slaves and he looked between the Goblin and the headmaster.

The teacher sighed, "It is not uncommon for Noble houses to keep slaves of some sort. However, it is an old practice that is starting to deteriorate as most slaves are now house elves. Involuntary slave bonds are made with some very dark magic and are now very illegal. Whomever cast the spell, if caught will have a long stay in Azkaban. However, if a person feels so indebted to a Noble house he or she can voluntarily make themselves a slave and bond him/herself to the person they owe. There are several levels of a voluntary bond, a slave bond being the most severe as they are for life. A servant or vassal is someone who has bound themselves to a person seeking protection or repaying a minor debt, any number of things. The difference between a vassal and a servant is simple. A servant is often a domestic, such as a maid or butler. A vassal could be seen as a field agent of sorts. They would handle anything public you yourself didn't want to handle. Both can be released at the wish of their Lord. A concubine and a slave are practically the same. As horrid as it is, they are not considered human. Their personality is severally changed to the point where they almost start to worship their master. Their only drive in life is to please their master. There are a few differences between the two however. One, a concubine can only be a female as a concubine is just a fancy word for sex slave. Two, if the lady or consorts fail to bear an heir, the concubine can then bear an heir in her lady's stead. Three, a concubine, socially, stands only slightly higher than a slave, though it is not enough to consider them human. A slave is well a slave. Beware though, if you ever save someone and incur a life debt from them, they will eventually fall into one of the last two categories. However, in any case, you are the one in charge of your house, everyone including the children are yours to command. A way to look at it from a Muggle point of view is that each family is its own kingdom, the Head of House being the monarch. The Ministry, then, is much like the United Nations."

Harry nodded, struggling to control his anger at what he had learned but knew that the wizarding world was much different from the Muggle world. There was no way for a boy of 10 almost 11 to change that.

Grangock pulled the Lord's ring, a platinum ring with a large shield emblazoned on the onyx stone, from the box. Within the shield was the Gryffindor coat of arms with a triskelion beneath it. At the top of the shield stood a doe and stag. Again, Harry listened to Albus as he whispered instructions and raised his left hand. Slipping the ring onto Harry's left ring finger, Grangock officially greeted him as Lord Potter, the other Goblins present following his lead. Again, the ring resized itself and flashed gold.

"Now, with that done, here are the financial records for all your vaults," stated the elder goblin, handing a stack of paperwork over to Harry who carefully read over each one.

 ** _Potter Family Vaults_**

 _Vault 118,_

 _Vault contains:_

 _647,450,068 Galleons 12 Sickles and 10 knuts_

 _Books, papers and notes_

 _Deed to Potter Manor, Lerwick, Scotland_

 _Deed to Potter Summer Cottage, Godrics Hollow England_

 _Deed to Villa de Potter, Paris France_

 _Family heirlooms and other priceless artifacts_

 _Trust Vault: 687_

 _Vault Contains: 500,000 Galleons_

 _Refilled annually_

 ** _Gryffindor Family Vault_**

 _Merged with Hufflepuff Family Vault_

 _Vault 12_

 _Vault contains:_

 _12,680,964,012 Galleons_

 _Deed to Hufflepuff Castle_

 _Deed to Gryffindor Palace_

 _Family heirlooms and other priceless artifacts_

 ** _Vault of Lord Emrys_**

 _Vault 1_

 _Vault contains:_

 _30,970,578,320 Galleons_

 _Staff of Lord Emrys_

 _Deed to Castle Avalon._

 ** _Black Family Vault_**

 _Vault 260_

 _Vault contains:_

 _139,230,560 Galleons_

 _Deed to #12 Grimmauld Place_

 _Deed to Castle Black, Scottish Alps_

 _Books, Papers and notes_

 _Family Heirlooms and other priceless artifacts_

 ** _All investments_**

 _Ollivanders: 35%_

 _Madam Malkins: 50%_

 _Apothecary: 16%_

 _Eeylops Owl Emporium: 36%_

 _Flourish and Blotts: 86%_

 _Leaky Cauldron: 25%_

 _Magical Menagerie: 48%_

 _Overall financial status of Lord Harry James Potter Emrys Black, all assets liquidated: 47,438,722,960 Galleons._

Harry stared at the final number, his mind blank and uncomprehending. He figured his parents were well to do with what Dumbledore had told them and wealthy after Grangocks history lesson, but he had no idea he was this rich.

Finally, one thing stood out in his foggy brain. He had 4 family vaults instead of just three as he thought he would

"Uh.. Um..," he stuttered forcing his mouth to work properly, "Uh why do I have a Black family vault?"

Albus, chuckled at the thoroughly shell-shocked look on his student's face.

"That is your godfathers vault," he explained to the young Lord, "you will find out why it is there at the reading of the wills."

Harry nodded looking white in the face, swaying unsteadily on his feet. The headmaster leapt to catch him as he passed out from sheer shock.

The headmaster shook his head as the goblins eyebrows shot into his thinning hair.

"You must forgive Lord Potter, Elder. He learned only yesterday he was a wizard and head of the Most Noble and Ancient House Potter. He didn't know the full history of that family and what that could entail as far as finances," the old wizard explained to the surprised goblin, who nodded his head in understanding. Turning to one of the goblins guarding the door, he fired off a quick sentence in gobbledegook. When the goblin had left he turned back to face the pair as Dumbledore raised his wand and whispered, " _Rennervate._ "

Harry's eyes snapped open. He sat up and looked around at the room then back at the venerable headmaster who still bent over him.

"It' wasn't a dream?" he whispered quietly still in shock.

The teacher shook his head, and helped him to sit up. The goblin that Grangock had sent out returned carrying a cup filled with a sweet-smelling liquid inside. Taking it, Albus put the cup to Harry's lips and urged him to drink. "It's a calming draught Harry, it will help you calm down," he explained. Harry nodded and drank deeply from the cup. his nervousness and surprise left him, replaced with a feeling of calm and acceptance.

Standing he inclined his head to the head Goblin, "I apologize Elder Grangock. It is a bit much learning that you are not only a wizard but a powerful and wealthy wizard in two days. For me it is quite literally, from rags to riches."

Dumbledore frowned at that statement as the elder goblin waved his hand dismissively. "It is quite alright, Lord Potter."

Harry took the parchments again and looked over each again carefully, "Sir? I am not much of an economist, but what I do know, wouldn't this kind of money send prices through the roof? I mean If there is this much money sitting around, even in the muggle world, wouldn't that cause a problem for everyone else?"

The goblin nodded, "Generally yes, however this money is generations old and has been sitting in those vaults unused, save for a few investments, building interest, some for thousands of years. The closest family to you in wealth only has a couple ten million. The Potters and the Blacks are among the founding families of wizarding kind. Not many know that Lord Myrddin Emrys and his best friend, Lord Afton Black were the first humans granted magic as we know it now by the deities of nature. Of course, there were a few people who were granted some magical abilities before, but those focused on natural magics like plant magic, weather magic also known as druidism, and some empathetic magic, plus alchemy, the forerunner to potioneering. These included what would become the Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin clans. But the Emrys and Black clans? They were the founders of it all. As far as monies? Clans Black and Potter have owned some the most successful gold mines ever recorded, bringing in a fortune. Galleons, are simply pieces of gold pressed into a coin. Within the Wizarding community the value of gold does not change as it does in the muggle world. In reality, you do not have the amount of coins in your vaults as the estimate says. What it does mean is if you were to take the gold ingots that are in your vault, you would have that much. However, no one will accept a gold brick as payment. In all actuality you only have about six hundred million Galleons in coin. Of course, Gringotts could press the gold ingots for a fee. Does that answer your question?"

Harry nodded, unable to speak.

The goblin grunted, "Good. Your accounts are attached to your rings. When you wish to pay for a service simply press your ring to the indentation shown you in the store. Now, we have a few things to attend to before the will reading, namely the number of marriage contracts that apply to you."

Despite the potion, Harry was shocked. From what Dumbledore had told him, it was not only common but expected for Noble wizarding families to sign contracts for their children, but he never dreamed that he had one for him, much less more than one.

"If you're worried about having more than one, Harry, don't be. It is not uncommon for a Wizard to have more than one wife. As you can already tell our society is not like Muggles," Dumbledore said to him soothingly.

"But sir, with these contracts, I have taken away their right to choose who they want to marry," Harry declared heatedly, "Is there anyway to break these contracts?"

"Not without both parties either losing their magic or dying, no," Grangock responded smoothly.

Harry was distraught. He knew he wanted to settle down and have children, but he wanted the marriage to be one of love. Not because they were forced into the marriage because of their parents.

"Harry, these contracts are binding. They must happen. And don't worry, the contracts will ensure that single one of the girls falls in love with you."

Harry looked at his teacher, his eyes glowing with hidden power.

"You mean that these contracts also take away their free will as well?" he snapped indignantly.

"It is our culture, Harry. You must accept it," Albus reprimanded sternly, "I understand what you mean, and it may seem ghastly, but a magically contracted marriage often creates some of the closest knitted family's ever."

The goblin snorted, "They may also create some of the most vile and disturbing relationships."

Harry's eyes grew wide, his mind sputtering to a stop.

Grangock sighed before explaining, "There are some matches that just are not meant to be. Magic herself will fight this, fang and claw. You will meet one such family today. But do not fret, we have a way of knowing if any contract is that way, and none of yours are. The contracts don't so much as force you to fall in love, as … remove any emotional blocks that might impede the true magic of love"

Defeated, Harry sighed. He may not like it, but he could feel his magic accepting and eager for the contracts, he could also feel the truthfulness of both Grangock's and Dumbledore's words.

"I just don't want to force myself on anyone," Harry whispered, head in hands.

"You aren't, Lord Potter. Each of these families have been notified of the contracts and they have all accepted them as written," the elder stated, handing over a second pile of parchment.

Harry took the pile of parchment and read the top piece of parchment.

 ** _Marriage contracts and Familial Hierarchy of Lord Harry James Potter Emrys Black_**

 _Lord Harry James Potter Emrys Black, Head of the Most Noble and Most Ancient Houses Potter and Black, Magical Heir of Merlin is betrothed to:_

 _Susan Bones, Lady Potter_

 _Daphne Greengrass, Lady Black_

 _Nymphadora Tonks, Consort Potter_

 _Su Li, Consort Black_

 _All names listed above will love and serve their Lord. They will bear his children and give all properties and name to him. They will obey his every word. They will support him through times of trial, and rejoice with him in times of peace for the rest of their days. Details and contracts are included beneath this parchment._

Harry's jaw dropped as he stared at the paper. He had already met one of his betrothed, and had eaten dinner with her the night before.

"This explains, the connection I felt with Susan last night," he whispered to himself.

Having heard his statement, Dumbledore looked over nodded, "Yes. Like I said the contract is legally and magically binding and will ensure you to fall in love with her. Also, you asked why you felt superior to her. If two individuals are betrothed to be together, the more magically powerful of the two will be dominant, the weaker submissive. Sort of a survival of the fittest. Susan's magic, knowing it was weaker, compelled her to act submissively to you. Your magic also felt that and compelled you to feel superior. Each of those girls will make you feel similar. As such, they are now your property. You can literally do with them as you wish."

Harry nodded again, upset at how things were turning out, but he knew he could do nothing of it. He could feel the rightness and acceptance his magic gave at the thought of the contracts. Looking at the headmaster he asked, "What are the differences between Ladies and consorts? And, since I'm asking how do servants and slaves play into the household, magically?"

"Socially, your Ladies and consorts will have a higher standing than your servants, concubines or slaves, if you were to ever get them," Albus amended quickly, seeing Harrys glare, "The magic binding ladies, consorts, servants, concubines and slaves to you are all different, yet similar. I have already explained slaves and concubines to you as well as servants and vassals. As I said, servants and vassals can be released, upon their Lords command. Vassals are seen as employees as it were. Servants are seen only slightly worse than consorts. Concubines and Slaves are bound to you for life and are socially equal with house elves. A consort is a secondary wife whose children will not become Heads of a House. A Lady, socially, is your primary wife. Her children will become your heirs."

Harry listened quietly as Dumbledore continued to explain the magical, and physical workings of a Lords house and its members. He was sickened to hear that while the magic that bound the various members was different, they all lived to serve him. If he wanted, he could have them all killed and take different wives if they didn't please him. He learned that the titles were simply social standing, and house hierarchy. Otherwise, he was in total control.

"And the families of these girls are ok with this, knowing that their daughters are to be practically owned?"

Dumbledore nodded grimly, "It's the way our culture has been for generations Harry. They all are trained and willing to serve you."

Harry twisted the ring on his left hand as he thought. This was not how he wanted today to turn out.

"Excuse me, Elder Grangock, but the parties called upon for the readings of the Potter and Black wills are here and are waiting, sir," a goblin spoke from the door leading out to the bank.

Grangock nodded his thanks, "Send them in."


	3. Chapter 3: Wills and Vaults, AN

**Alright people, authors note:**

 **Just a couple of Poll Announcements.**

 **First, I have gotten several different requests concerning Ginny. 1: I should keep her in a lower position, 2: I should make her even more submissive like a fetish. (The person mentioned "The Coven of Seven" By Lord Redmoon as an example) 3: Make her Lady Emrys. Please note that if Ginny is not made Lady Emrys, there will be no other contenders as Harry is only considered a Magical Heir. Also, if Ginny does not become a wife, and you wanted her to be, don't worry. I plan on writing a Harry/Ginny Soul Bond story in the nearish future**

 **Second, I have read in several stories about Bellatrix Lestrange either turning sane or being bewitched and coming back to the light as an Ally of Harry's. I l like the idea so I am going to use it. Here's my question, Does Bellatrix, wracked with guilt, swear a voluntary slave bond to Harry, or does she ask for asylum in his house, and becomes a close ally. In both cases she will help heal the Longbottoms.**

 **Third, I plan on having three ladies swear themselves to Harry because of life bonds, turning them to servants/concubines of house potter. These ladies will be Hermione, Ginny, and Pansy. Ginny might leave due to what the first poll results are. My question is do I make one of them have a super submissive fetish. If Ginny's poll comes back with a submissive, it will be in addition to Ginny.**

 **Fourth, Luna or no Luna.**

 **Polls on my Profile**

 **Thank's yall hope you enjoy the story.**

 **Huge shout out to DEATH11223344 as my Beta reader for both Lord Potter and Master of All.**

Chapter 3

Wills and vaults

Albus grabbed Harry's shoulder and led him over to the largest chair sitting in the middle of the room. Sitting down, Harry watched as the goblins threw open the doors and people streamed into the room. The first in was a tall blonde headed man, his hand on the shoulder of a boy around Harry's age. Both had their noses stuck in the air, superiority rolling off them in waves. Harry took an immediate disliking to the two. Following them was a tall blonde haired woman. She too gave off a sense of superiority, but for some reason, Harry felt as though it were being forced.

"Lord Lucius Malfoy, Head of the Noble and Ancient House Malfoy, Heir Draco Malfoy, Lady Narcissa Malfoy nee Black," Snaggletooth announced as they headed straight for Harry. They stopped short, however, when they saw Harry and Dumbledore were already in the seats of honor. Not wanting to stir up trouble with the formidable headmaster, the elder Malfoy sneered at them before sitting a few seats down, shushing a complaining Draco.

"Madame Amelia Bones Head of the Department of Magical Law enforcement, Head of the Noble House Bones, Heiress Susan Bones," drawled Snaggletooth. Harry smiled at his betrothed who blushed prettily and dropped her eyes to the floor, before moving to take a seat behind him as her aunt sat a few rows back.

"Arthur Weasley, Head of the Ancient and Noble House Weasley, Molly Weasley nee Prewett, Ginerva Weasley."

Harry returned the grin that Arthur gave him and accepted the bone crushing hug from Molly.

"Ted Tonks, Andromeda Tonks nee Black, Nymphadora Tonks," continued Snaggletooth

A tall man walked in with a woman who looked a lot like Narcissa, but with black hair, on his arm. A pink haired girl around the age of 12 stumbled in behind them, ignoring the snickering coming from the Malfoy scion. She was wearing a scowl and mumbling about something, but a sharp elbow from her mother silenced her.

"Remus Lupin,"

A scarred young man with premature grey slipped into the room and quickly took a seat by the door, next to Arthur Weasley.

"Lord Francis Greengrass, Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass, Astoria Greengrass."

A stern looking man strode into the room, nodded respectfully at the goblin, took one look at the Malfoys, and hurriedly found a seat as far from them as possible. Two girls, one around the age of 11, the other around the age of 9, followed their father. The older of the two wore a cold expressionless mask, though Harry thought he saw her give the Malfoys a look of loathing.

"Lord Boqin Li Head of the Noble and Ancient House Li, Lady Sarah Li, Su Li."

A tall kindly looking Chinese man walked in with a brown-haired woman at his side, a petite, black haired girl following closely. He stopped just within the door and bowed to the Elder Grangock who returned the gesture. Standing straight Lord Li swiftly chose a seat near Lord Greengrass, sending the Malfoys a look of anger.

Harry's blood boiled when he saw Draco leering at Daphne and Su. He didn't know why he was so mad, until he realized that all four of the girls he was betrothed to marry were all in the room and it was the magic from the contracts making him feel so protective. Then he remembered what Snaggletooth had said about Narcissa's maiden name being Black. They probably thought that Draco was going to receive the Lordship of House Black, and would marry the two girls. Harry was confused, wouldn't Draco have a higher claim to it then he would?

"The following names have been unable to attend due to conflicts taking place at Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic, and send their express apologies for not coming. Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape, Rubeus Hagrid. Let us begin," Snaggletooth intoned as the large door slammed shut.

"Thank you, Director Snaggletooth. Esteemed Witches and Wizards, we are gathered today for the reading of the last will and testament of Lord James Charlus Potter and his wife, Lady Lilly Jane Potter nee Evans, and the last will and testament of Lord Sirius Orion Black. We thank you for attending. Please note that all bequeathments are final and have already been removed from the deceased's vault. Let us start with the will of Lord Black," said Elder Grangock, waving his hand at the bowl in the middle of the room. The torches dimmed and a holographic image of a tall man, with long black hair and a stylish goatee flickered to life. He had a slightly haunted look about him, though he smiled painfully at the assembled crowd.

Harry took one look at him and immediately was sucked into a deeply buried memory. He saw a dog chasing him as he zipped around on what looked to be a toy broom stick. He heard laughter, and the dog turned into the same man that was staring at them from the bowl. The man picked him up and tossed him in the air, causing more screams laughter which Harry realized was coming himself.

"Padfoot…" he whispered. Dumbledore looked at him with a raised eyebrow before turning back to the image.

"If you are watching this then that means I am either dead or am still being held at Azkaban. On October 31, 1981, I was framed for the murder of my best friends James and Lily Potter by Peter Pettigrew. Many thought that I was the secret keeper for the Potter family, but James and Lily convinced us to switch at the last minute to Peter Pettigrew to try and keep me safe. I never should have agreed."

The image sighed and rubbed his eyes before continuing, "I, Lord Sirius Orion Black, Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House Black, being of sound mind and body and my own free will, hereby ordain this to be my last will and testament to be read and carried out when my godson, Harry James Potter, claims his place as Lord Potter or before his first year at Hogwarts. It is to be executed and carried out by my good friend Elder Grangock, head of Gringotts bank, London Division.

First, to my best friend and brother Remus Lupin, I leave 85 thousand Galleons. Use it to buy yourself a good home, some good clothes, and to open a shop of your choice. I know it is hard for you to find a job, old friend, so create your own. Don't try to argue Remus, the transaction has already disappeared from my account and will show up in yours on the day of the reading. Do us both a favor, brother, and accept this poor dog's sincerest apologies at ever suspecting you to be a spy. It is something that will weigh on my heart forever."

There was a crash as Mr. Lupin fell out of his chair in shock, staring at the image. Smiling, Arthur reached over and pulled him back up and into his seat, giving him a friendly pat on the back.

"To Molly and Arthur Weasley, I leave another 85 thousand Galleons. You supported me and James through our times of need and helped to teach both James and Lily about raising a child. For that I will never thank you enough. Before either of you argue, I am not giving charity, I am repaying a lot of debts incurred over a lifetime of friendship, namely all those meals Molly and Lilly cooked for us. God help those who got in their way when they were in the kitchen. As with Remus, the amount has disappeared from my account and will show in yours after the reading of my will."

Arthur froze in his chair, ashen faced. Beside him, his wife hurriedly whipped out a handkerchief to muffle her sobs.

"To my cousin Andromeda and her beautiful daughter, I leave you 50 thousand Galleons each. I love you Andy and I'm sorry for what our family did to you. Stick around and I'll see what I can do. To my other cousin Bellatrix, I know you aren't seeing this because you're in prison with me, but whatever you have become, it's not you. What happened to the girl Andi and I used to duel? I know the LeStrange brothers did something to you, because there is no way you would turn dark. We were the 'Three Lights in the Black,' remember? Please come back. I hope you can see this if by some fluke you get out of prison. If I am right, then I leave you 50 thousand as well. If you have truly turned dark, you are hereby banished from the Most Noble and Ancient House Black."

The image had tears freely running down his cheeks, as he stared intently at the crowd. He drew a ragged breath and sorrowfully rubbed his eyes.

"To my third cousin Narcissa, you have a choice. Either ask the new Lord Black to annul your marriage with that pompous, stuck up, prick, and take the 50 thousand Galleons I'm leaving you, or take 200 Galleons and never darken the door of House Black again."

Lucius started spluttering as Draco looked confused. Narcissa looked anxiously around the room. Locking eyes with the woman, Harry was bombarded with an overwhelming feeling of hope.

"That brings me to the next order of business. I hereby banish Draco Malfoy Black from the Most Noble and Most Ancient House Black. Lucius, I know your there, you ungrateful bastard, you pranced into this room, head held high, assuming you would be taking another seat on the Wizengamot? Guess again, you ignorant prat. I would never give Lordship to that brat of yours."

Lucius gave a cry of outrage and lunged at the bowl, but was yanked back into his seat by a spell from Dumbledore. Draco sat by his father sullen faced and angry, spluttering indignantly. Looking around, Harry saw that the Greengrass and Li families were looking between each other, and the bowl confused. Daphne was staring right at him, a cold calculating look boring straight into his skull. Giving her a small, friendly smile, Harry turned back to the bowl as Sirius continued talking.

"To Severus Snape, I leave 40 thousand Galleons. Severus, I am terribly sorry for the way I treated you in school. I heard what you did for our family at the end of the war, and I will never ever repay you. I don't expect you to ever forgive me, Merlin knows I don't deserve it. Use this money to open an apothecary of your own. I know that is what you truly wish to do.

Finally, to my wonderful godson, Harry. I leave to you everything I have left. I also bestow upon you the Lordship of the Most Noble and Ancient House Black. I do have a favor to ask of you though. The way the laws are written are weird. In my will, I can banish people from the house but I can't restore them, so I beg of you to restore my cousin Andromeda and her daughter Nymphadora to House Black."

A sharp gasp came from beside the Weasley family. Looking over, Harry saw Andromeda covering her mouth with her hand, tears shining in her eyes. Nymphadora looked at him with a face full of hope and longing.

The bowl, again, drew everyone's attention as Sirius continued to speak. "Harry, I ask that you'll do me this one favor. Andromeda was removed from House Black for vocally renouncing the dark ways at the beginning of the war. She was always my favorite cousin and it broke me when she was kicked out. I was planning to reinstate her, but I was framed before I could."

The image gave a deep sigh, it's hands rising to its face, a forlorn look coming to his face.

"Harry, my dear boy, I hope that we will see each other face to face soon. Please do not think ill towards me. I would never betray your parents, I would have rather died myself than for James and Lily to have died. I love you as my own son, and I know you will do well. Take good care of those girls I know you have coming. If you don't, your parents will have your head. And believe me your mother had a temper. Professor's Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape, please take care of my godson and teach him all he needs to know. If I ever get out of prison, this will, if having been read, will not change. I will come and advise Harry as I should, being his godfather. Also, I know the gifts are fortunes, but I have way to much fucking money and you all deserve it. If anything put it in a vault for your great grandchildren. Well, it's time for me to go. I hope to see all of you again soon, even you Malfoy so I can hex you into oblivion. Bye!"

With a final, pained, grin and a wave the image of Sirius vanished and the torches flared back to life.

"Lord Harry James Potter, step forward," Elder Grangock called.

As he stood the headmaster whispered, "Your right hand." Barely nodding his head, Harry walked to the front of the room and stood before the table at which the elderly goblin still sat.

"Hold out your hand," said the elder as he produced another long rectangular box from under the table. Opening it he pulled out a pure black ring and slipped it onto the ring finger on Harry's right hand.

"Greetings Lord Black," chanted the Goblins in the room as Harry inclined his head yet again.

After Harry had returned to his seat Snaggletooth spoke up, "This concludes the reading of the will of Lord Sirius Orion Black. If you do not have business with Lord Black or, are not staying for the reading of the Potter's will, you may leave."

There was a scraping of chairs as Lucius stood and stormed towards the door, dragging his reluctant wife from the chambers with a foul, hateful glare thrown at the entire room. Draco followed, but stopped at the door, turned and spat at Harry, "You'll regret this Potter. You stole my Lordship from me. No one crosses a Malfoy."

Once the Malfoy family had gone, Grangock turned to the remaining audience, "I now call down, Daphne Greengrass, Su Li, Nymphadora Tonks, and Andromeda Tonks so we may conclude your business with Lord Black."

As they made their way down, two goblins came over and stood next to Harry. One was holding the box of Black family rings, and the other held the official Black Family Tree that was kept in the Black Family Vault. Leaning over, Albus whispered instructions to Harry who listened with rapt attention.

Finally, Gragnock approached Harry, the four women trailing behind him.

"Lord Black, I present to you Miss Daphne Greengrass," the goblin started pompously, "Lord Orion Black signed a marriage contract with her grandfather for her to marry the first eligible heir of the Most Noble and Most Ancient House Black. Do you accept her as your Lady Black, to love and obey you, to carry your children, and to serve your every whim to the end of her days?"

Harry now knew what would happen if he said no. It would bring shame and disgrace to her family, Daphne could die and she would lose her magic. But looking at her, Harry knew his answer. The honey blonde girl was standing next to Grangock her head bowed, her face emotionless, but Harry could see nervousness hidden in her icy blue eyes.

"I do," he said, as authoritatively as he could, giving her a warm smile. The girl looked at him for a split second, the nervousness replaced with gratitude and submission, before her emotionless mask slipped back into place.

Harry reached over and pulled the Lady's ring from the box. Taking Daphne's extended left hand, he slipped the ring onto her ring finger. The ring resized itself to fit her finger, and she curtsied before moving to the side.

"Lord Black, may I present to you Miss Su Li," the elder continued as the shy girl stepped up beside him, "Her ancestor signed a contract with House Black generations ago for the eldest eligible daughter, to marry the first eligible heir. Do you accept her as a consort in your house, to love and obey you, to carry your children, and to serve your every whim to the end of her days?"

"I do," he repeated, taking the first consort ring out of the box, and slipping it onto Su's left hand, giving her the same smile he had given Daphne. The girl dipped into a curtsy, before standing next to Daphne.

"In the eyes of the goblin nation, the contracts are fulfilled. Hereby and forever more, you are bound to Lord Black. May you serve him well."

Magic pulsed around the room, as the girl's names were added to the Black Family Tree and small white lights streamed from the rings worn by the two girls.

As the Lord Black ring on Harry's hand absorbed the lights, the superior feeling Harry had been feeling when the girls had been in front of him grew, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He knew this was part of the culture, but he was mad that two lovely girls were being forced to marry him. He calmed a little though as the magic in the room died down, and with it, the intensified feeling of loftiness that Harry had come to despise.

Giving the girls a kind smile, he motioned for them to sit. He intended for them to sit with their families, but instead they moved and sat behind him, sitting next to Susan.

"And finally, do you, Lord Black, at the request of your godfather, and former Lord Black, Sirius Orion Black, wish to reinstate Mrs. Andromeda Tonks and Miss Nymphadora Tonks back into the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Black," Granick said with a grimace of a smile.

Harry had to fight to hold in a laugh. Mrs. Tonks looked like she was ready to pass out, but Nymphadora was bouncing on her toes, a giddy look on her face. What confused Harry was that, as she bounced, Nymphadora's hair was rapidly changing colors. Harry stared mesmerized, until a firm squeeze on his shoulder from Dumbledore, startled him out of the trance.

"Of course," was all he said. He was a little bewildered as to why the goblins was still standing there looking expectant, until Albus leaned over and told him how to say it properly for the magic to take effect. Nodding, he stood and looked Andromeda in the eye.

"Mrs. Tonks, I, Lord Harry James Potter Black, do reinstate you and your daughter into the Most Noble and Most Ancient House Black. I apologize for our families previous, wrong action of ever removing you. May you prosper and bring honor to our hou..."

Before he could finish he was pushed back into his chair by a squealing wall of pink and blue hair as Nymphadora threw herself at him. Grabbing him in a tight hug, she knelt, sobbing into his chest. Putting an arm around the crying girl, he looked back at Mrs. Tonks. "…May you prosper and bring honor to our house and name," he finished with a smile. There was a flash and the Black Family Tree glowed again as the scratched-out names of Andromeda and Nymphadora were renewed and cleared. The sobs from the girl he was holding intensified as her mother joined the hug.

After Nymphadora had calmed and her mother and led her back to her seat, Grangock addressed the crowd, "Let us continue with the reading of the final will and testament of Lord and Lady Potter."

Harry's breath caught in his throat as the lights in the room dimmed and an image of his parents shimmered to life above the bowl. His father looked like an identical older version of himself, but his mother shared his poison green colored eyes. He brought a hand to his mouth to try and keep the tears at bay, but he still felt a wetness sliding down his cheek.

"We, Lord James Charlus Potter and Lady Lilly Jane Potter, of sound mind and body, do ordain this to be our last will and testament of our own free will. We hereby declare all others null and void," James started with a small smile. Lilly continued, "If this is being watched, then we know that a couple of things have happened, one something went wrong and we are no longer in the world of the living, two, our little boy is nearing his 11th birthday and is now sitting with Albus Dumbledore and our friend Elder Grangock of the London Gringotts Wizarding bank. The money we have has been a bane to James and has been itching to get rid of it."

James picked up where she left off, "I am no damn royal. I'll take a cottage over a manor any day," James flinched as his wife cuffed him over his head before continuing, "First to my brothers in all but blood and best friends, Sirius and Remus, I leave both of you with 100 thousand Galleons each. Remus, Sirius told us what he plans to do in his own will and we agree. Use this money to open a good store and earn a decent living for yourself. Please, treat yourself right, your condition isn't your fault and you shouldn't treat yourself as such. Sirius, I know you don't need the money, but take it anyway, find yourself a girl and settle down, playboy." There was a thump near the door and everyone looked to see Remus slumped on the floor having passed out.

"Molly and Arthur Weasley," Lilly's voice broke the ensuing silence, "we also leave you with 150 thousand Galleons. You have been the best friends a family could ask for. We know you don't accept charity, so think of this as repayment for all the favors we have ever called in. We owed you a lot, so we hope this will cover it. I also did a little bit of research and I know some of the History of the Weasley Family. This is a repayment specifically of that debt." Molly's tears started anew, as Arthur just sat in his chair, his face slack. Ginny, was staring at Harry a look admiration, and a little fear clear in her eyes.

"Professor McGonagall, we are leaving you 50 thousand galleons, use this money well. We know you don't need it, but maybe you can find someone else who does. Maybe start a fund for new muggleborns who, like myself, enter our world with almost nothing. Severus Snape, we also leave you 50 thousand galleons and my most humble apologies. Sirius and I were right pricks to you in school. We should have taken after Lilly and looked past the Slytherian robes," Harry's father said, with a shamed face. Lilly squeezed his hand then looked back at the crowd. "Severus, I also extend to you my forgiveness for that incident so many years ago. I forgave you many years ago. I loved you like a brother and still do. Use this money to open that apothecary I know you so desperately want. Make it the best in the world."

"Professor Dumbledore, we just spoke with you and you demanded that we not leave you anything, but we can't do that. We have set aside 200 thousand for you. We all know that you don't need the money but there is no way we can ever repay the grandfather of Hogwarts. You have changed all of our lives and I know you will continue to do the same. Use this money to help the students of the school," James stated, a grin playing across his face. Looking at the old wizard, Harry saw a tear trickle down the wrinkled cheek.

"To Rubeus Hagrid, the gentle giant of Hogwarts, we leave 50 thousand galleons and a deed to a plot of land in the country. Get yourself some creatures and take good care of them for us. Take after Mr. Scamander and write a book on magical creatures," James continued with a playful smile.

"Finally, to our dear son Harry. We leave to you everything we have left. Use it wisely, for we know you will go far. Remember to be the best you, you can be. We know you might think you are too young to take up Lordship, but as the only remaining Potter, you must. Susan, Dora, please take good care of our son. We love you Harry and we will see each other again. Dumbledore, look after our boy and teach him as you taught us. This is James and Lilly Potter, signing off."

James threw out a goofy salute and the image faded. Tears were streaming down Harry's face as he stared at where the image of his parents had stood. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and looking over, he saw the professor give him a watery smile, his own eyes wet and spilling over.

"Susan Bones, Nymphadora Tonks, please come forward," the gravelly voice of the elder goblin called over the quiet whimpering of various people.

The girls moved to his side as a goblin walked forward holding the Potter family ring box. Opening it he extended it to Harry.

"Lord Potter, I present Miss Susan Bones," the Gragnock repeated "Lord James and Lady Lilly Potter signed a contract with Lady Lucy Bones and her husband only a few months after her birth. Do you accept her as your Lady Potter, to love and obey you, to carry your children, and to serve your every whim to the end of her days?"

Harry rubbed a hand over his face to rid himself of the tears and pulled the Lady's ring from the box and slipped it onto Susan's finger. "I do," he announced with another warm smile. Susan returned his smile and curtsied before standing off to the side.

"Lord Potter, I present before you Miss Nymphadora Tonks," recited the goblin, looking slightly bored "House Potter signed a contract with House Black generations ago for the first two eligible daughters, to marry the first two eligible heirs. Your grandfather completed half of this contract when he married Dorea Black. Do you accept her as a consort in your house, to love and obey you, to carry your children, and to serve your every whim to the end of her days?"

"I do," Harry grinned sliding the first Potter consort ring onto her left ring finger. Nymphadora smiled at him, dipped into a shallow curtsy and walked over to Susan, tripping over air on the way.

Elder Gragnock gave a toothy grin, "Then, in the eyes of the goblin nation, these contracts are now fulfilled. Hereby and forever more, you are bound to Lord Potter. May you serve him well."

The room was filled with magic as the Potter ring Harry wore consumed the long white tendrils emanating from the rings of his betrothed. As the magic faded, Snaggletooth spoke up, "This concludes our meeting here today. May your gold ever grow."

"As may yours," sounded the response from the room, bringing a happy sneer of a smile to the director's face as he walked out the door.

Harry stood and looked around the room as people started gathering their things. Mrs. Weasley was still wiping her face with her handkerchief as Ginny was trying to pull her stunned father out of his chair. Remus was still out cold on the floor. Looking over his shoulder, he saw his girls giving their family's hugs. Stepping around Dumbledore who had started talking with a grave looking Madame Bones, he walked up to the Weasleys and the still form of his father's friend.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," he called quietly. Spinning around, Ginny took one look and leapt behind her mother who had pulled Harry into another bone crushing hug.

"Oh Harry, we can't accept the money. It's too much, it was a pleasure to help your parents and we would do it again in a heartbeat. Please, take it back," she pleaded after she had set him down.

"I can't do that Mrs. Weasley. That's part of the reason I came over here. I wanted to thank you myself for being a part of my family's life, even if I remember only a little. I can't retake that money even if I wanted to. If you won't accept it as payment for all your help, accept it as a gift, and use it wisely in honor of my parents." Seeing her about to protest, Harry continued cutting her off, "There is a difference between a gift and charity, Mrs. Weasley. Charity is given out of pity; a gift is given out of love."

"Then let us return the gift, and come over with Professor Dumbledore and have dinner with us. Remus is already coming. I'm sure the rest of our family will love to meet you," Arthur jumped in as his wife dissolved into tears once more.

"We would be honored, Arthur," said Albus as he walked up behind Harry. Meanwhile, Harry turned his attention to the ginger haired girl who was blushing madly and staring at her shoes.

"Ginny, are you ok?" he asked quietly, startling the poor girl.

"Y-y-yes, Lord Pot…" she started, looking up at him, eyes filled with fear.

"I'm going to stop you right there," Harry cut her off, looking her straight in the eye. "Our families were good friends before the death of my parents. I would like to continue that friendship. That means no 'Lord Potter' and no 'Lord Black' just 'Harry,' Ok?" She nodded but still backed away, looking frightened.

"Are you scared of me?" Harry whispered, hoping that it wasn't the case. He wanted to get to know this red headed girl as he could feel his magic wanting to pull her in and protect her.

Ginny hesitated before nodding, "It's said Potters are always powerful. Besides, you're so rich. If your parents and godfather had that much to give out, I mean your family just practically elevated House Weasley to a standard in wealth that we have not achieved for generations, but how much more do you still have?"

Harry flopped into the chair next to her, and let out a long breath. "Too bloody much," he claimed, "A couple of my vaults have apparently been sitting down there unused collecting money for thousands of years."

Ginny's eyes grew wide.

"But remember, money doesn't make the person. I want to be friends with you because you like me for me, not because I have so much damn money, it's unreal. Please, don't fear me. I'm just an almost eleven-year-old boy who was suddenly thrown into a new world. I could do with some good, true friends."

Ginny gave him a mischievous grin and, before Harry could say or do anything, sat herself on his lap, and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a friendly peck on the cheek.

"I can be your friend," she giggled.

"Not because of the money or the fame?" Harry asked seriously.

Ginny shook her head then blushed. "I've been in love with The-Boy-Who-Lived my entire life. My favorite time of the day was at night when I was listening to the stories about how you defeated You-Know-Who. But they're just stories. Getting to know the real you should be far more interesting."

Harry grinned at the young girl, "I agree."

Ginny returned the smile and slid from his lap. "I'll see you tonight!" she called as her smiling mother led her from the room. Harry shook Arthur's proffered hand before turning to the revived Remus, now sitting in his chair, staring into space white in the face.

"Mr. Lupin, are you alright?"

"Remus, just, Remus," came the whispered response.

"Remus then. Are you alright."

The man nodded slowly, almost absentmindedly.

"Your parents were good people. I should have expected something like this, but it is still a shock. James always complained about how much he had, and continuously boasted about how much he was going to give away."

"Just promise me you'll use the money as they asked," Harry asked, a serious look on his face.

"I promise. I'll see you tonight, Harry."

The man gave a weak smile, rose and walked unsteadily out the door. Harry turned to the professor. Behind the aged wizard stood his four girls. Their families stood grouped by the exit, watching.

It suddenly hit him what Grangock had meant when he had said the contracts were complete. Legally, he was married to all four girls, almost a month before he turned 11. The thought staggered him.

Daphne spoke up, "My lord, we are ready to leave when you are."

Harry shook his head, "What about your families?"

Susan responded, "We serve you now, Har… my lord. As such we attend to you and your every need."

Harry groaned internally at their use of 'my lord,' but knew that at the bank, it was required. A quiet sniffling sound floated over the air, and he saw Su flinch. Glancing over, he saw Mr. Li holding his wife who was crying softly into his shoulder. Little Astoria was hiding her face into her father's leg, who was quietly rubbing her back.

Still looking at the upset little girl he spoke, "Ladies, I have lived almost eleven years without a Lordship, I can handle a little longer," he turned his face back and smiled at them, "Go, enjoy the rest of the day with your families. Do you think you can come by room 10 of the Leaky Cauldron tomorrow morning for breakfast so we may talk for a little?"

Daphne was about to protest, but was cut off by a blonde blur who crashed into her. Her little sister was hugging her waist tightly, sobbing into it. Lord Greengrass followed close behind, looking embarrassed.

"My apologies Lord Black. My daughters have always been close, but that is no excuse for the behavior of my youngest."

"It is quite alright, Lord Greengrass. I was just suggesting that your daughter take the rest of the day and enjoy it with you and your sister, as well as the rest of the ladies, and their families," turning back to the girls he continued, "If you have any shopping that needs to be done, please use the rings. They are connected to my account and now, by extension, your account."

"Lord Black, won't you be needing them?"

"Not today, Lord Greengrass," Harry responded with a smile, moving towards the door as they followed, "They should spend time with their families. I am not so cruel as to tear them away just, so I can have them fetch nonexistent slippers. I have lived my whole life helping myself, I can go a little longer. I have, however, asked them to be at my room in the Leaky Cauldron early tomorrow so we may talk and get to know each other a little."

Their small group stopped in the lobby of the bank and the elder Greengrass extended his hand towards the young lord.

"My daughter will be there, Lord Black."

"Harry, please sir. I'm still getting used to this whole 'Lord' business and would rather just be friends. After all, I think I just became your son in law, legally at least, and I wouldn't want to leave a bad impression," he responded, shaking hands firmly.

The older man's grin broke his stern face, "Francis, then."

As he turned away, Daphne stared at Harry in awe, her emotionless mask slipping.

"No one outside of our family, has ever made him smile. Not since my mother," she said quietly, then in a move that surprised Harry, she stepped up and kissed his cheek.

"I will see you tomorrow, my lord," she curtsied and followed her father, her younger sister glued to her side.

One by one the girls followed Daphne's lead. Each pressed their lips to his cheek, curtsied, wished him a good day promising to see him on the morrow, and left.

Harry stood frozen, his hand absently rubbing his cheek, staring at the door to the bank.

A deep chuckle pulled him from his absent state as Dumbledore came up beside him. Putting a hand on his shoulder, the teacher commented, "I believe you will do just find Harry. Just fine indeed."

Harry shook his head with a goofy grin, and turned to the Elder Goblin who was standing behind them.

"Elder Grangock, would it be possible to head down to my vault? I would like to see what kind of books are available."

"Of course, Lord Potter, I will take you down myself. Would you like to visit all your vaults? Or just a specific one?"

"I would like to visit just the Potter Family Vault. I can come back and visit the others at another time," Harry responded.

"I also must get something in vault seven hundred and thirteen. Would it be possible to stop there as well?" Albus stepped in.

"Of course, right this way."

Harry and Dumbledore followed the old goblin to a carved door behind the director's booth. When it opened, Harry was a little surprised to see a gloomy cavern seemingly carved into the ground. It was lined with sooty torches and a small train track was embedded in the ground. The goblin put his fingers to his mouth and gave a shrill whistle. Seconds later what appeared to be a mining cart screeched to a halt in front of them.

"Go on, climb aboard, but make sure you hold on tight," the headmaster whispered in his ear.

Harry obeyed and held the side of the cart as Albus climbed on beside him. Harry grew a little concerned when the teacher cast a minor sticking charm to the seat before sitting down. He was about to ask why when there was a squeal as the brakes were released and the cart shot off into the darkness below at a breakneck speed.

For Harry, the ride was exhilarating and he couldn't help but laugh and shout in joy, throwing his arms up at every drop and corner. Dumbledore was not as well off and was gripping the rail in front of him so hard, the rusty metal bent slightly from his magically induced strength, his face an ashy white.

Harry couldn't keep track of the various dips and turns they took. The cart was moving so fast, all he could see was a blur, though he swore he saw a burst of fire emanating from a dark shape that appeared to be a dragon. He didn't have much time to think about it though as they hurdled on into the oppressing blackness.

After much too long, in the headmaster's opinion, the cart screeched to a halt in front of a blank granite wall. The only disturbance in the wall was a small flat rock protruding from at a slight angle. Harry was a little confused when the goblin had clambered out, but he followed his example.

Harry glanced back at the elderly teacher and had to bite back a snicker. Albus was still sitting in the seat, his eyes were shut tight, the metal bar in front of him still in a vice grip.

"Professor, we've stopped. You can open your eyes," he chortled.

Dumbledore cracked open an eye, furtively looking around.

"So we have," he stated. The wizard canceled the charm holding him to the seat and stepped down from the cart. He meant to do it gracefully, but when his foot touched the ground, his knees fell weak and he stumbled.

"Blasted cart," he muttered while Harry lost all elements of control and burst out laughing.

Albus sent him a mock glare, but the sheepish smile ruined it as he slipped a tiny flask from within his robes. Taking a quick swig of the firewhiskey to calm his racing heart, he moved to stand next to Harry and the Elder.

"Your hand please, Lord Potter. A drop of your blood is required to prove your lineage," Grangock explained, producing a small, curved blade, and stepping towards the young lord.

Harry's eyes widened at the sight of the knife. Unconsciously, he took a hurried step backwards, away from the confused goblin. In his mind's eye, a memory forced its way to the surface,

 _Flashback_

 _"He's over here somewhere, find him!"_

 _Harry huddled further into the bush where he was hiding as heavy footsteps thundered by. His breathing was quiet, but rapid. He had to remain quiet. If he could keep quiet, Dudley and his gang would get bored and he would be able to slip away to the library._

 _"The little freak couldn't have gone far. We'll teach him a lesson!"_

 _Harry curled into a ball as he heard his cousin's voice, coming from just beyond the leaves. If only he would just leave! Seconds past in relative silence except for the thumping of shoes on the ground and the rustling of branches as the gang idly looked among the trees. Harry was about to sigh in relief as he heard the group move away, when a small insect flew up into his nose. Harry immediately covered his face with his hand, desperately trying to muffle the sneeze, but it was not to be. Instantly the sound of running feet was heard and the bushes parted. Harry tried to make a run for it, but hands reached out and grabbed him before he could escape._

 _A fist buried itself into Harry's stomach, forcing him to lose what meager lunch he had stolen, as he curled on the ground. Dudley loomed above him, grinning. "Looks like we caught our freak, boys! Let's show him what we do to such… things."_

 _Harry looked around wildly for help, but only seeing Vernon, who looked on with mild interest, he gave up hope. Piers and Malcom each grabbed an arm and hauled the raven-haired boy to his knees. Harry didn't have time to think before another fist impacted his jaw, sending stars through his vision. A third connected with the other side, snapping his head around._

 _"No, please…" Harry whispered as he fought for consciousness._

 _"Awww… Is the fweak gonna cwy…" said Malcom, patronizingly._

 _"Nah, he's a freak he can't cry!" snorted Dudley as he landed another punch into his cousin's stomach._

 _Harry struggled pathetically as he fought to breath. All he could focus on was to escape. He had to escape, he had to escape, he had to escape. A movement caught his eye, and he braced himself for another blow._

 _Suddenly his arms were free, and he could move. The darkness that had been crowding his vision was gone, and the pain from the punches were now a dull but bearable ache. Looking around he saw that Dudley and his gang had been blown back somehow and lay on the ground dazed. But at the time that didn't matter. He needed to run. Leaping to his feet, he turned to flee, only to receive a blow to his face, knocking him flat. Vernon Dursley stood above him, his face purple as he carefully looked over the scattered gang._

 _"How dare you use your evil, freakish, unnaturalness on my poor boy and his friends," the large man's words were quiet and menacing, "You haven't learned your lesson yet, have you boy… well you will now."_

 _Vernon smoothly pulled a large hunting knife from his jacket, and flipped it around in his hand. Pinning the boys hands to the ground with his knees, he pulled up the boy's shirt, exposing the pale, sweaty chest. Seconds later Harry started to scream bloody murder._

Dumbledore looked on, as the brilliant green eyes grew distant as they darted around the room, seeing nothing. He easily recognized the look of post traumatic fear in the eyes of his young student. It was a look he had seen far too many times before during the first war. His heart sank lower as he continued to realize the hell he had put the young man through. Putting a calming hand on the boy's shoulder, he knelt trying to get the wild green eyes on his.

"Harry, look at me. You're alright, you're safe, nothing is going to hurt you. Calm down," he whispered urgently, soothingly.

The poisonous eyes snapped to his, wide with fear. His breathing calmed down slightly, but was still hurried and panicked. Dumbledore gave a quiet sigh, "I'm so sorry, Harry. Please forgive me."

Raising his wand, Albus whispered, " _stupefy_ " putting only a tiny fraction of the needed power behind the spell. It wasn't enough to knock the boy out, but it certainly made him drowsy. Harry slumped into the professors waiting arms, his eyes half lidded, ready to fall into a deep sleep.

"May I ask Headmaster, what that was about?" Grangock demanded, shock lacing his voice.

"I wish I knew, Elder, I wish I knew," came the muttered response, "I think it is best we nick his hand now, and put the knife away. It must be what started this."

The goblin nodded, and with a quick flick of his wrist, a small red line appeared on Harry's palm and the goblin vanished the knife. Dumbledore waved his wand over the drowsy lad and roused him with a quick "Ennervate." Harry looked up at the head master, and back to the goblin. Realization dawned on his face and he stood, looking quite ashamed.

"I beg your pardon, Elder. There was an incident about a year ago that has left me rather scared of any knife outside of my possession. I hope I did not, in any way offend you," Harry said, apologetically, bringing his defenses back up and slipping behind his overly polite persona once more, ignoring the annoying itch spreading across his chest.

The goblin inclined his head, "It is quite alright, Lord Potter. It happens to the best of us. We have already done what was needed. Please press your palm against the wall."

Harry looked down surprised to see the small cut on his palm, bleeding only slightly. He felt no pain which confused him greatly. Shrugging, he pressed his hand against the bare wall in front of him. A tingle ran up his arm and through his body before the wall flashed golden. The outline of a door shimmered into view, and a handprint was outlined in the protruding rock. Harry pulled his hand away from the vault, watching in awe as the cut healed itself leaving no mark that it was ever there.

"Good," the goblin chuckled, "Now to open it simply press your hand against the print. Only a Potter or a high-ranking Goblin may enter your vault."

Harry nodded and pressed his hand to the angled rock. The outlined print flashed green and the outlined door in the wall swung open on silent hinges. Harry looked in, not sure what to expect. Within was what appeared to be another dark chasm. He took a tentative step in. When his foot touched the ground inside the door, torches flared to life revealing an immensely long hallway lined with tall proud statues. Taking another step, he looked around the expansive corridor. The pathway was made of marble tiles, leading to a large golden door. The statues were each of a man and woman, standing within a tall archway. Walking up to the nearest one he read, _'Lord Aurelius Gryffindor Potter and Lady Margaretta Potter, Founders of the Most Ancient and Noble House Potter.'_

"These statues are of each previous Lord and Lady Potter. When one dies, the hallway expands adding his and his wife's image to the collection along with another protection spell. Only the dimmest of thieving fools would attempt to make it past this hallway, if they even made it this far," Elder Grangock stated with a gruesome smile, "Only when a Potter opens the vault door do the enchantments and traps fully disable."

Harry nodded absentmindedly, examining each statue as he passed it. Standing just to the left of the great golden doors was a statue that made him freeze and tears run down his face. His father stood regally before him, his mother tucked into his side, her head resting on his shoulder. Below it he read, _'Lord James and Lady Lily Potter. Willingly laid down their lives to save their son.'_

A gentle pressure on his shoulder made him look up. The kindly blue eyes of the headmaster twinkled down at him, wet with tears. Neither spoke, but plenty was spoken. They came to a silent agreement, that neither would try and hurt the other. Giving a sad smile, Harry turned to the golden bank vault door before him. Seeing another magical hand print, he placed his hand within, waiting to see what he had. The handprint flashed, and the golden doors swung in.

Harry took one look at the room before him and nearly passed out. The cavern was easily the size of a large warehouse. Bookcases lined the walls crammed with tomes of varying sizes and thicknesses. Along the back of the massive chamber rose stacks of gold bricks. The center of the room was filled with rows of display cases, each filled with some item.

His mind in a white haze, Harry walked in. Looking around he whispered, "This is all mine?"

The goblin nodded, "Indeed it is Lord Potter, and this is only one vault."

Harry shook his head quickly, not wanting to think about it. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he headed straight for a bookshelf. He had an innate desire to learn, and loved to read. While he had been forced to do poorly in school while at his relatives, lest he get whipped for doing better than "perfect" Dudley, they had not quenched his thirst for knowledge. Browsing the shelves, he started pulling out titles that fascinated him. Beside him, the pile grew as he added book after book on Arithmancy, Runes, Charms, Dueling, Potions, and many other subjects.

Albus laughed aloud as the young lord continued to pull volumes from the shelves. Turning to the wall beside him, he levitated a trunk stored there over to sit beside Harry.

"Here, my boy, use this. It's a library trunk specifically designed to hold and sort books."

Harry looked down at the trunk, a grin spreading across his face. Reaching down he unlatched the lid and started transferring his collection inside. He was about to move on to the next bookcase when the teacher cleared his throat.

"Harry while I applaud you for wanting to read and learn, we still have to get what is required for the school year, or else what is in those books will be useless."

The boy nodded reluctantly and turned back towards the entrance. Almost at the door, he noticed a handwritten note sitting next to a small medallion bearing the Potter Crest. Picking up the letter, he started to read.

 _'Dear Harry,_

 _If you are reading this note, then that means we are dead and you have taken up the mantel of Lord Potter before I could give you the locations of our various properties. As such I have written them down for you here. This paper is charmed so only you can read it. Once you read this, the necklace will become a permanent portkey. Put it on and only you can remove it. Simply touch the crest and say the place you want to go and you will be taken. It is the only portkey that will work and only Lord Potter may activate it._

 _Potter Manor, 10 miles east of Lerwick, Scotland_

 _Summer Cottage, Godrics Hollow England, Circle Drive_

 _Villa de Potter, Paris France, Rue Balguerie._

 _Remember Harry, we love you,_

 _Dad'_

As he read the note, Harry felt something like a wave wash over him. He wasn't sure what it was, but he folded the note and slid it into his book trunk. Picking up the necklace, he slipped it over his head. With a final look at the vault, he smiled and headed into the corridor. The headmaster muttered a spell at the trunk and it shrank down to the size of a jewel box. Slipping it into his pocket, Dumbledore led the way out of the vault and back to the cart.

The ride to the next vault was just as delightful to Harry, and just as terrifying to Albus, as the previous. When they stopped in front of Vault 713, the teacher took another fast drink from his flask, as the goblin stepped up to the vault, dragging a long finger down the center of the door.

"Only a goblin can enter the vaults in this sector, anyone else who tries gets sucked in," the elder explained with an evil grin.

Harry gulped, "How often do you check to see if someone is inside?"

"About once every ten years."

The door melted away and Harry peered inside the seemingly empty vault. He was about to ask why the emptiness when he noticed the professor reaching in and grabbing a small dirty package from the back corner.

"Sir, if I may ask, what is that?" he queried, curiously.

"Nothing that you must concern yourself with Harry. It is simply something an old friend wanted me to keep safe,"

Harry nodded and returned with the professor to the cart.


	4. Chapter 4: Of Wands and Dinners

Chapter 4

Of Wands and Dinners

Harry stumbled out of the wizarding bank, adrenaline pumping through his system, his face split in a wide grin. The ride up to the surface had been even more exhilarating, if possible, than the first two. Beside him Dumbledore was partially bent over, a hand on his stomach, his face tinged green.

"I hate those cart rides," the professor muttered, once again taking swallow from the small metal flask.

Harry laughed joyously and looked around the bustling alley. For the first time in his life he felt happy. While he was in public and did need to keep his front up, it wasn't as difficult as it normally was. He knew this was where he really belonged, among these people, he could feel it.

"Where to first, sir?" he asked when his companion had straightened.

"Since we left your relatives in such a hurry yesterday, we need to get you a complete wardrobe including your school robes," Albus said, pointing to a store, "Let's start at Madam Malkin's for your wizarding attire."

Harry nodded and took off towards the building, leaving the professor to hurry after him. A chime sounded as the boy opened the door.

"I'll be right with you!" a cheery voice called from the back of the store. Harry took the time to look around the cozy shop. Racks of robes of varying colors stood in a random fashion around the floor, signs floating above each stand declaring sales and used items. Harry stepped up to the closest rack and felt the fabric of a bright red robe. The cloth was soft and light, yet sturdy. He had never felt cloth quite like it before. Of course, the only clothing he had ever been allowed to really touch had been Dudley's old, crusty, shirts and jeans.

A squat, middle aged woman poked her head from around the corner, "Welcome dearie, Hogwarts?" she asked with a kind smile. Harry nodded as he released the robe he had been fingering. Madam Malkin took keen notice of the rings on Harrys fingers and her eyes widened minutely. The rumors she had heard were true. Lord Potter had returned and had come to Diagon Alley, which meant today was going to be a good day. Giving her usual friendly, helpful smile, she led Harry to a back room with a pedestal sitting in the middle. Along the wall sat bolts of cloth, spools of thread, and many different trimmings and garnishes. "Would you please hop up on that platform, honey? Raise your arms straight out and I'll get your measurements," the woman asked.

Harry nodded and took the requested position as Madam Malkin removed a textile tape measure from her robes and tossed it at him. Harry stood still as the measure started to dance around him, a parchment and a quill floating nearby noting measurements. The store matron, meanwhile, was flitting around the room, looking at different colors and cloths, sometimes just one, other times layering two or three together before holding them up in Harry's direction. "Tell me, sweetie, how would you like your robes? Standard or formal."

Harry blinked, "What's the difference?"

"Standard is, well the standard robe. It is the standard issue robe that we give to most customers. What you see most people wearing are the standard robes. The formal robe is the formal dress of the Wizarding World, much like a suit or a tuxedo in the muggle world. It uses some of the finest silks and is tailored to you individually. Charms are also weaved directly into the cloth itself. Spells like warming charms, cooling charms, self-adjusting charms, and so forth. Most often, you will find the nobles, such as yourself, wearing these constantly."

"Pardon?" Harry asked, a hint of panic seeping into his voice.

The shop matron released the cloth she was holding and approached the young man and bowed, "Milord, I know exactly who you are. Your mother was a dear friend of mine. I was in my 5thyear at Hogwarts when she started, and I have never seen anyone more studious then the Ravenclaw's. I was an ambitious Hufflepuff and, trying to prove myself to my pureblood father, had taken too many electives. I was struggling with my classes and desperate for any form of help. Even in first year, your mother was the most brilliant woman I have ever seen. Many times, she found me crying in the library as I tried to make sense of my classes and every time, she sat down, and helped me sort through every lesson and piece of homework. I owe her this store, quite literally, to her and your father. It is because of your family that I had the money to buy this store."

Tears welled up in the young man's eyes, "It's Harry, please, Madam Malkin. I didn't know… you were friends with my mom?"

With tears of her own, the middle-aged witch nodded, "I owe your family much. Because of that, your Hogwarts robes will be free of cost. I also received a note from the esteemed Headmaster that you require a full wizarding wardrobe. As co-owner of this establishment, any product you buy here will be discounted at seventy-five percent off, no arguments young man!"

Harry closed his mouth as his arguments died at the woman's playful glare. Madam Malkin nodded crisply in approval as she returned to the fabrics. Picking up several colors she draped them over his shoulders, "Now, let's see what colors we can use with you."

The next three hours were filled with material, colors, and robes. Madam Malkin had him try on many styles of robes ranging from ancient robes to new styles that could almost pass in the muggle world. Throughout the whole session, the friendly matron kept up a continuous conversation with her young customer. At Harry's request, Madam Malkin explained the symbolism behind the clothing used in the wizarding world. The quality, the fabric, the coloring and the placement of crests and coat of arms. The higher the quality the more distinguished the house, the fabric and crest placement represented rank, and coloring simply described mood or character. She unveiled examples of a houses robes, each position clearly labeled. The Lords Robes, made of fine silk, displayed proudly the house crest on the left shoulder over the heart, trimmed in gold. The lady robes were identical with the crest trimmed in silver. A consort's robe was made from lesser silks and had the crest trimmed in bronze. A vassal's robe had the house crest displayed on the right sleeve even with the shoulder on their own personal robes. The servant's robes were made from simpler material and displayed the crest on the right elbow. Concubine and Slave robes, if they were allowed any, were made with the cheapest material and displayed the crest on the back directly at the neckline below the collar of the garment.

Harry stood silent, allowing the older witch to do her work as his head spun with the new information. He vowed to find a book on clothing in the wizarding world for more research on the matter of clothing.

When Harry was finally released, he gave the friendly Madam Malkin a hug and, after paying for her services, met Dumbledore outside.

"Harry! Survived Madam Malkin, I see?" the professor grinned knowingly.

Harry nodded as he followed the headmaster down the crowded streets, "Yeah, it was fun, once she told me about my parents."

Albus smiled sadly, remembering the unlikely friendship between the spitfire and the seamstress. His reminiscing was interrupted when Harry pulled out his list and started to peruse the formidable looking items.

"All right sir, what's next? I still need to get my cauldron, books, telescope, vials…" Harry blew out a breath that ruffled his bangs, exposing his lightning bolt scar.

Dumbledore chuckled ruefully, scratching the back of his head, "I hope you don't mind Harry, but while you were in with Madam Malkin, I took care of most of your list. All you have left to get is your books and wand."

Harry's eyes shot up to meet the twinkling blue orbs, "Sir you didn't have to do that!"

The old man shrugged, "No, I didn't have to, but I wanted to. Consider it ten years' worth of birthday presents."

Harry worked his mouth for a minute, before he just shook his head in defeat. The two worked their way through the crowds towards the book store, acknowledging the many greetings that were thrown their way. Once, Harry was sure he saw a flash of pink hair but wasn't sure. It did remind him to speak to the professor about the most intriguing ability Nymphadora had displayed.

A quiet chime echoed through the hall as the door to Flourish and Blotts swung open, emitting two more people to the slightly crowded book store. Harry's eyes widened as he looked around the store. The space was cramped with bookshelves and the bookshelves were filled to overflowing with books. Albus led the distracted boy over to the front counter, where a slightly haggard looking keeper sat studying a huge leger, sets of books sitting on the desk behind him.

"Professor Dumbledore!" the man yelped when he looked up, "What can I do for you, sir?"

"A set of first year books would do nicely, Matthew," the professor answered with a kind twinkle, "I am escorting Mr. Potter today, and as he seems to be a bit distracted, I thought I would collect his books."

Matthew Browning turned to look at the lithe, black haired boy who had entered the shop with the aged mage, who now perused the shelves enthusiastically, a small pile of books growing on the floor beside him. His eyes widened, before turning the desk and removing one of the sets. He placed the small stack of books on the counter, while Dumbledore retrieved a piece of parchment, and the shrunken library trunk from his robe pockets. The second the trunk touched the floor, it sprang to full size, the lid snapping open. Withdrawing his wand, Dumbledore gave a flourish, enchanting the parchment as the stack of first year books floated into the trunk. As each book entered, the title and price were written on the parchment in neat, flowing handwriting.

Harry was ecstatic, to think that he could buy any book he wanted and read them over and over without ever giving them back. He looked over the titles on the shelf calmly as he did a little happy dance in his head. He had already picked out a group of books on interesting topics, including his own copy of Spells and Magic for Dummies. As he perused the shelf, a medium sized tome caught his attention, Mind Arts Vol.1 Occlumency: Fortify Your Mind. Pulling the book from its place, Harry opened it and started to read the introduction. What he found within was a goldmine of information, but he could only understand half of it. It was not a little confusing, but hell, it was a book and apparently, a good one at that. He could ask the professor to help him when he needed it. Harry dropped it onto the pile and began searching for the rest of the series.

It took an extra fifteen minutes before Dumbledore could convince Harry that it was time to leave. He had to remind the young man several times that they would remain here for the next month, and Harry could come in on any day and continue his shopping. Harry finally added the book he had been reading to his collection before carefully balancing the precarious stack in his arms and carrying them over to the counter. Placing his purchases in front of the clerk, Harry took the book on occlumency out of the stack, and turned it to the astonished man.

"Sir, do you have the rest of the series for this book? I only read apart of it and it sounds fascinating," he asked politely. Matthew dumbly reached beneath the desk and retrieved two more matching books, his wide brown eyes never leaving Harry's green. Placing the additional books on the table, he stepped back as Dumbledore flicked his wand and the books danced their way into the library trunk. As the last book entered, the lid snapped shut. Taking the parchment with the list of books on them, Harry perused his new possessions. With a firm nod, he put the list on top of the trunk before he pressed his Potter Ring into the small depression in the old-fashioned register. A second later, the ring flashed green, the register drawer popped open with a ding, and the elderly professor was shrinking his trunk.

Thanking the still stunned man behind the desk, Harry followed the elderly professor out of the store. He hated leaving such a fine establishment, but he knew Dumbledore was right. He could come back anytime during the next month and buy as many books as he could carry.

"Well Harry, I'd say it is time for lunch a bit of a late lunch, wouldn't you say?" Dumbledore asked as he glanced at his watch.

Harry's mouth watered at the idea of food, so he nodded before following his nose. The headmaster chuckled before catching up to the boy, subtly leading him to Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. A happy chime pealed, and shouts of greeting rose from the gathered patrons, most of them students, as the amiable and famous Headmaster of Hogwarts stepped through the door. The noise died suddenly when the people noticed who had entered with the mage. The sudden silence seemed loud to Harry's ears and his instant instinct was to find the fastest route of escape. But, Albus steered him to a booth near a window before waving over a tall, slightly dumpy man with short salt and pepper hair, and a pointed, curled beard.

"Albus! Good to see you. I'm assuming you'll be having your lunch time usual?" Florian Fortescue asked brightly.

"Indeed, Florian! You know me so well."

The owner snorted good naturedly, "I only know your taste buds. All that sugar is going to kill you one of these days, old man."

Dumbledore chuckled, as Florian then turned his kind black eyes on Harry, "How about you, young man, what'll it be? Say, I don't think I've seen you in here before. What's your name, son?"

Harry swallowed, "Uh… Harry, sir, Harry Potter."

Florian's eyes widened slightly, "Harry Potter, I take it back then. The last time you were in here was with your parents almost nine years ago. Now let's see," the man reared back, stroking his curled goatee, "Your father enjoyed a Rueben sub with a triple fudge sundae, while your mother preferred a grilled chicken sandwich on sourdough with no onions, and a strawberry shake. Anywho, what would you like, Harry?"

Harry stared at the man slightly before he started spluttering, "I…Is there a menu I could look at?"

Fortescue threw his head back and let loose a loud belly laugh, "Menu? Please. I can make anything you want. You tell me what you would like, and I'll make it. Anything at all."

Harry looked at him, blinking owlishly, before a small grin crossed his face, "Well then Mr. Fortescue, I'll have a beef sub sandwich with the works, do you have any mozzarella cheese to put on there? And a chocolate sundae."

"Coming right up," the man grinned, disappearing into the kitchen.

Albus chuckled after the man before turning to his current ward, "Well Harry, what do you think?"

Harry picked at the napkin he had just pulled from the dispenser, "Honestly Professor, it's a little mind blowing. I mean, I grew up with very little, and now I have millions. Billions if I convert it all over to pounds. I am a month from turning 11, and already I am married to four girls. I have multiple houses around the world and I am the heir to someone until yesterday, I believed was merely a legend."

Dumbledore's occlumency shields slammed into place to keep his face from showing any reaction other than his usual kind smile, "I understand how it is, Harry. Your reaction is very similar to how many muggle-born react. However, I do wish to clear one thing up with you. While yes, in the eyes of the goblins and magic, you are married to those four girls and though they will socially be recognized as such, you will need to go through a ceremony when you reach of age to be fully recognized with the Ministry. Only then may the ladies take on their full responsibility as your wives and legally take your names."

"Responsibility, sir?" Harry asked raising an eyebrow.

"Just a few that they cannot already do, for example, if you were incapacitated, they could sit on the Wizengamot for you and speak for you. Otherwise, they are yours. Unless you wish differently, they will live with you, advise you, serve you…"

Harry cut him off with a snort, "I mean no disrespect or offense, Professor, but this all sounds so wrong. I mean I grew up hearing about women who owned and directed huge corporations, hell, our monarch is a woman. Now, the world I am supposed to be apart of feels… I don't know… ancient, I guess? I mean, is the nature of magic that sexist?"

Dumbledore sighed as he tried to think of an answer, "To be honest Harry, I don't know. I understand how you feel. I am a half blood, as my mother was a muggle born. But I was also born during a time in which the rest of the muggle world was still mostly a patriarchal society. Also, you must understand, that it is only the bigoted lords who treat women as inferior. You remember Mr. Malfoy?" At Harry's nod, Albus' face grew grim, "It is the people like Lucius Malfoy who adhere staunchly to the customs. If you notice, Mrs. Malfoy never spoke a word in the bank today. The only place women can speak freely in families like that is the house, without the Head present. There are others however, such as the Greengrass and Li families who, while loving their family, train their daughters to be that kind of wife because of the strong possibility that their daughters would be married to one of those bigoted families."

Harry frowned, "While I guess I can understand the drive to bow to a more powerful person, I just don't like that women can be walked all over like that."

"I know Harry, I know, I don't like it either, but, as I have said, it is our culture. People are not going to change how they were raised to think just because some do not agree. But things are getting better, we have had several women Ministers of Magic in the past, and they are moving up in the world."

Harry nodded ruefully as Florian reappeared, two sets of dishes floating in front of him. Student and teacher fell to their light lunch with vigor. Harry was surprised to see that the gentle and poised headmaster could eat with the best of them. It was funny to watch as the old man wolfed down his turkey and ham sandwich, though his manners never wavered, no matter how ironic it looked. Harry finished his own sandwich as Albus turned his attention to the towering lemon sundae, complete with a candied lemon wedge, with an eager look in his eye. As the old man dug into the cold treat, the door chime tinkled, and a young, well-dressed couple walked in. The two were holding hands and were talking quietly, small, loving smiles adorning both faces. Harry noticed, however, that as they walked to a booth in the corner, the young woman trailed slightly. He watched surreptitiously as they sat and continued to talk quietly. When Fortescue made his way over, the young man placed the order for both, before turning his attention back to his date.

Albus watched quietly as Harry eyed the two. He knew the couple well as they had graduated from Hogwarts only two years previous. Mr. Samuel Croft had been a pureblood Ravenclaw while, Miss Abigail Swan had been a half-blood Hufflepuff. He leaned over to his student, "Those two are the perfect example of how most Noble couples act. There is no denying the two love each other, but you also can not who is in charge between the two. If you look, Miss Abigail follows his lead, but yet, he does not as you say, 'walk all over her.' However, we must consider that the two are well matched as far as abilities and power. In your case you are the most powerful wizard out of anyone here. That does mean the actions of your own ladies will be much more obvious."

Harry watched the young couple closely as he ate his own ice cream, deep in thought. Well, he didn't know what to think. Of course, there was the fact that women were being forced to bow to men, but there was so much evidence on both sides of the board, it wasn't worth considering at the moment, at least not until he had a chance to talk to his own four ladies. The thought still astounded him. He was 10 years old, a wizard, the heir to both first magic users, of noble blood, and married. That brought a question to him that he had pushed to the back of his mind.

"Professor? Nymphadora, what was with her hair?" Harry asked curiously.

"Ah," Dumbledore responded, quickly swallowing a mouthful of lemon ice-cream, "Young Consort Potter is a metamorphmagus or metamorph. A metamorph can change their appearance at will, like their hair color, the shape of their face, their height, the color of their eyes, etcetera."

"Oh. How many of these metamorphmagus are there and can you become one?" Harry asked, finishing the last of his ice cream.

Albus chuckled, "No, unlike animagi, you cannot become a metamorphmagus. You have to be born one. And there are only a couple hundred in the world."

"Wow, is it hereditary?"

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes it is. Somewhere along the Tonks genome, there was a magical who was a metamorph, and it is more than likely that at least one of your children will be as well."

Harry's mouth moved silently for a minute before clicking shut. Lowering his head to hide his blush, Harry pushed the now empty dish away as he stood to go. Albus followed, still savoring his last bite as he dropped a couple of Galleons onto the table to pay for the meal. Chuckling softly at the boy's obvious embarrassment, Dumbledore led the way back out into the crowded streets of Diagon Alley. There was only one thing left on the list, and there was only one wandmaker in Diagon Alley that Dumbledore trusted implicitly.

Harry squinted up at the peeling letters over the door of the shop that the Professor led him to. They read 'Olivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC' The shop itself was narrow and dingy, and seemed to be in rather poor keep. There was a single wand sitting on a dusty, faded purple cushion in the filthy display window. Harry was about to ask Dumbledore if he was sure they were at the right place, but held his tongue when Albus threw open the door and strode in, accompanied by a small bell. Shrugging his shoulders, Harry slipped into the gloomy and dark shop.

The inside seemed to be as drab as the outside. The entire shop was filled with dust, and Harry fought not to sneeze. The only light was from the windows at the front of the shop, though there was the glimmer of a light glowing from the back of the shop. There was a small counter directly in front of them; rows and rows of shelves filled the rest of the shop, each shelf held long narrow boxes, stacked together like Jenga Blocks. Harry's original hesitance was slowly slipping away, especially at the small amused smile playing on Dumbledore's face as the old man looked around slowly.

"Hello, Garrick!" the mage called into the gloom, "I have a rather interesting customer for you here!"

"Ah, Mister Potter," a voice answered, echoing around the room, "I was wondering when I would see you in my shop." Two spots of silver appeared deep into the shop. Harry jumped when he saw them, but paused when he saw just how far back the two spots seemed to be. From what he was judging, that distance should have been impossible in such a small store.

"Come now Garrick," Albus chuckled, "As much as I enjoy a good entrance, I think you will find Mr. Potter and his wand needs, very interesting."

A light shone from the bowels of the store, illuminating a fair face, with white hair dropping out of sight, and wide, silver eyes. Harry was now certain that the store was larger on the inside, as the man approached the counter.

"It seems only yesterday your mother and father were in here buying their first wands. Your mother preferred a… Oh my…" the old wand maker trailed off as he studied Harry closely, "There is something very different about you my boy. Power flows through you, like blood through a vein, waiting to be released. Yet, it calls out not just to a wand, nay, but to a staff as well. Fascinating." Grabbing Harry by the arm, Garrick pulled Harry into the recesses of the store, muttering, "Come, come, we must find you a wand first." Stopping partway back, Ollivander started to peruse the shelves. With a quiet 'Ah' he pulled a box from among the stacks and returned, removing a long elegant, stick. "Rosewood, 12 inches long, dragon heartstring core, nice and swishy" Ollivander said as he handed it to Harry. Harry gingerly took the wand and held it but it was immediately snatched back by the wand maker, "Apparently, not," Garrick muttered as he replaced the wand box. Moving down the shelves, another box was removed, and another wand was given to Harry, only to be once again snatched away, a gleam entering the old man's eyes as Dumbledore just stood by smiling.

As the trio moved further into the store, a quiet song whispered through the air, drawing Harry's attention away from the man who was about to hand him another wand. The sound was enchanting, the music haunting, speaking of betrayal, pain, but also of hope, of something better to come. Harry turned toward the sound, searching it out. Slowly he began to move in the direction he felt it coming from. Garrick turned to Dumbledore, his wide pale eyes, showing little surprise, "It seems his wand calls to him. Let us see how the two react when they finally meet." Nodding his assent, Albus followed his old classmate, as they trailed the now running raven-haired boy.

The music drew Harry to a set of shelves that seemed a little dustier then the rest. The song was getting intense as he continued to walk. He wanted to know the music, to hold it, to wield it. Putting his hand up, he trailed his fingers along the stacks of boxes that lined the shelves. His eyes were closed, his head moving slightly to the singing that filled his ears. Suddenly, something within him seemed to snap. The flute grew louder, and louder. His breathing quickened at the desperate notes that filled the air. His friends were calling to him, asking him to protect them. He needed to hold them in his hands, to shield them from the horrors of the world.

Suddenly it all stopped. Harry opened his eyes with a gasp as he looked around, frantic to find the haunting sounds. After a second, he relaxed slightly. The song wasn't gone, but it was quiet. The tune had changed from an intense, desperate song of impending danger, to a slow, contented lullaby, barely audible to his ears.

"Harry, look at your hand," the quiet voice of the headmaster said.

Flicking, his head to his right, Harry's eyes opened wide at the sight. His hand was held out flat, palm up, and above it, swirling in time to the song he could still hear, floated a wand. The box that had held the wand lay smoking at his feet, utterly useless. As he watched, the wand slowed it's dancing before settling into his hand. His fingers closed around the handle and a feeling of happiness and warmth surged through his arm and to his heart, the song increasing in volume and tempo briefly.

To the other two men, Harry was surrounded in a bright emerald green aura. It was obvious to them which wand the boy would be using.

Garrick stepped forward, a slight crease in his brow, "Curious, very curious. I remember every wand I ever sold, Mr. Potter. As it happens, the phoenix who gave the feather for this wands core, freely gave a feather of extraordinary length. Only part of the feather resides in this wand, the other half resides in the wand that gave you that scar. These wands were made in the same ritual, and are connected in ways only Magic herself can understand. The one you hold now, and the one that gave you that scar are the only two true brother wands ever created that I know of, and even on the table, they have fought one another. You are destined to do great things with that wand, Mr. Potter, fighting the owner of its brother who also did great things. Terrible, yes, but great."

Harry swallowed as he looked at the wand. He could feel the power thrumming through it, but somehow he knew that it was his own power that had filled the wand. He was about to pocket the wand when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he saw Ollivander holding out what appeared to be a leather bracer. As he took it the old man spoke again, "This wand holster, was made on the same day as that wand, Mr. Potter and the two seem to have a proclivity for each other. Keep this on your arm, and your wand will remain safe." With firm nod, Harry slipped the bracer onto his arm where it tightened itself, gripping his arm in a comfortable hug.

With his wand now only, a flick of the wrist away, the aged wand maker gave a secretive smile before drawing his own wand. A small light flickered to life illuminating the shadowed store, and Garrick motioned towards the back of the room, where a door creaked open. "Come Mr. Potter," he murmured, "Time for you to create your staff."

Harry followed the two old men into a room so dark, he wouldn't have been able to see his hand if he were to put it in front of his face if it were not for the dim light emanating from the wand. The door shut behind him with a soft click, a second later the light from the wand vanished, throwing the room into an oppressive blackness. The silence lasted barely a second before a loud ringing laugh filled the room. Torches immediately flared up revealing a non-descript room, the walls lined with cabinets, racks of wood and more shelves. Dumbledore was leaning on a large stone table, circles of runes inscribed upon it, holding his sides as he laughed.

"Come now, Albus," Ollivander huffed, "There is no need for theatrics."

His comment sent Dumbledore into another fit of laughter, his offhand coming around to hold his side. "Theatrics," he wheezed, "I am not the one who keeps a dingy old shop and puts on an act to scare people as they come in to shop for wands!"

"I do what I do to instill within all those searching for wands that what they wield is not a toy!" Garrick retorted, a hint of a smile curling the edges of his lips. Harry stood in the corner as he watched as the two bantered playfully. It was clear that the two knew each other, but he was anxious to continue. He cleared his throat quietly, hoping that it would help to bring the two men back into focus. He was awarded by two sheepish smiles as the two glanced at him from the table.

"Right," Ollivander said, a slight blush tinting his pale cheeks, "Mr. Potter, I need you to close your eyes and walk around the room with your hand extended towards my cabinets. Open yourself to connections and let them fill you. They should affect you much like your wand did, and react the same way. Once you feel no more connections, bring the items here to the table."

Harry nodded, and started to walk around the room, his hand raised and his eyes closed as he listened for the song to come alive, and come alive it did. The music danced in his ears and the wand on his arm grew warm, sending feelings of happiness shooting through his body. Harry kept walking, listening to the delightful waltz that seemed to swirl through the air. He was growing slightly concerned though, as he walked. There wasn't that pull Ollivander had spoken of. Outside of his little trance, Garrick and Albus stared in awe as items burst from the many cabinets lining the walls as Harry walked by, magical cores, gemstones, and woods all leapt out at him. In fact, by Ollivander's count, at least one of every wand making supply he had was orbiting the young lord. Finally, the boy stopped after completing a full circuit and the wand maker's eyes widened.

"That's impossible," he whispered.

"He's a Potter," Albus responded, "What did you expect?"

"Certainly not this."

Harry, unaware of what was happening around him, listened as the music quieted a little, but did not calm. There was …something… several somethings… brushing his mind, seeking entrance. Latching onto that feeling, Harry mentally pulled with all his strength.

A sudden clatter of noise forced his eyes open as the trance ended. He looked around in confusion at a large mess, and two awestruck men who were staring at him in a daze. The cupboards that had lined the walls were now standing wide open and their contents were scattered haphazardly. Immediately, Harry started to stutter out apologies, as he started to move forward to clean up the mess he had created. Before he could even move but a couple of steps however, Albus had whipped out his wand, and cast a mild sticking charm to the floor, keeping the young man in place as Garrick pulled his own wand and, with a series of flicks, sent everything flying back into their appropriate cabinets. Within seconds, the mess had vanished, save for the items that had landed in a perfect circle around him.

Albus chuckled at the sheepish look on the boy's face. "Gotta love magic," the old man quipped as he canceled the sticking charm. Harry smiled as he looked around at the circle of items surrounding him. There was a jar with what appeared to be some thick thread, a second jar that held a silvery liquid, a large, ebony feather and three gemstones the size of his palms, one was an emerald, another he believed to be a ruby, and the third was clearly obsidian. There was a fourth, a white-ish color, but Harry couldn't place it. Next to the stones sat two blocks of wood, one black, and the other almost white.

A wave of Ollivander's wand saw the supplies floating into the air and onto the rune covered table Dumbledore still leaned upon. Harry approached, deathly curious as to what would happen next. As he stood next to the table, he saw Garrick carefully looking over each item on the table.

"Fascinating," the old man whispered. Rounding on the young lord, the wand maker fixed Harry with an unnerving glare. Harry took an involuntary gulp and backed a step. "Lord Potter, I don't know if I should be unnerved or ecstatic," a manic gleam lit in the old mans silver eyes, "your magic has chosen some of the most powerful foci ingredients, both light and dark, that I have in my stocks. This," the old man continued holding up the black block of wood, "is wood from a rosewood tree that was planted in a blood-soaked battlefield over 50 years ago. It grew and absorbed the blood rich soil, turning the wood pitch black. The magic within it is as dark as the wood itself."

Harry's eyes opened wide. He glanced fearfully at the headmaster, who simply looked at the wood, his hand stroking his beard thoughtfully.

Ollivander continued, holding up the white block of wood, "This is wood from a milk fed maple tree, grown in my own backyard in a spot of tranquility and beauty. The magic within it as lighter than any you would find," placing the woods into one of the runic circles, the old man next picked up the jar full of threads, "This is the most surprising, these are the heartstrings of three dragons, before you arrived today, they were in separate jars. One heartstring is from a particularly vicious Hungarian Horntail. The beast would attack anything that came within a hundred yards and win. Another heartstring is from a Chinese Fireball. This dragon had a strange affinity for people and was the friendliest dragon I have ever seen. It protected his friends with his life, unfortunately literally. This last heartstring is from a Ukrainian Ironbelly. It was the old protector of it's pack. This dragon was exteremely powerful, and nothing could stop it, except for time itself."

The old man opened the jar, and poured out the contents into another circle, before picking up the jar of silver liquid, "Within this jar, is the freely given blood of a Unicorn patriarch. It is an even more powerful core than a unicorn hair."

Garrick opened the stopper and poured the blood into a small, rune filled depression in the table. Retrieving, the feather, the old man shook his head with a small, sad smile on his face, "I knew this feather would be used for something special," he said, "Harry, this is the feather of a Dark Phoenix. A phoenix goes through a burning day and is reborn once every year, and once every hundred years, the phoenix is reborn into a Dark Phoenix. Many consider this stage to be a rebirth of the rebirths. A phoenix is known to be a creature of light, its song bolster's the pure of heart and strikes fear into the soul of those with ill intention. But the song of a Dark Phoenix spreads doubt into the pure of heart, and bolsters those who find themselves corrupted even just a little. They are also attracted to dark magic."

Harry cocked his head, looking at the various items circling the table. It was rather plain to him that almost all the ingredients, except for the heartstrings, displayed an affinity for either dark or light. He didn't know what to think but hoped that it meant that he would be well balanced.

Ollivander picked up the gemstones and held them up after he had placed the feather in yet another rune circle, "Ruby, Emerald, Pearl, and Obsidian. Rubies represent vigor, willpower, rage, leadership, and courage. Emeralds represent growth, nature, fertility and safety. Obsidian represents power, elegance, formality, evil, unyielding and mystery. Pearls represent light, goodness, and purity."

Placing all four stones into their designated circle, the old wand maker turned to Harry, looked him in the eye, and said, "My Lord Potter, each and every one of these items prescribes to your character. It is clear to me that you will be the next Merlin. A wizard of great power, and great balance. You have seen and will see great evil in your life, Harry. You have been through and will be through a great deal. As much as you might deny it, it has tainted your soul. You know of the true evil people are capable of," the old man gestured to the darker artifacts on the table, "but you have grown into a wonderful young man who will do all he can to protect those he loves, to keep them from experiencing the same evil."

Harry swallowed, and looked at the silent Headmaster, who simply smiled softly and sadly at him. Nodding to himself, Harry looked back to the wand maker and said, "I understand, Mr. Ollivander. What do I do."

Garrick smiled and pulled a small silver knife in an ornate sheath from beneath the table, and held it out handle first. "In order to properly bind the staff to you, you need to freely give three drops of your own blood. Once you do that, I will start the ritual. I will repeat the phrases three times clearly, and then you must join me."

Harry nodded and, after taking a few seconds to steady his breathing, he took the knife and withdrew it. With a quick flick of his wrist, the palm of his left hand was sliced open, and blood dripped onto the table. As the crimson liquid touched the table, the runes came to life, glowing in a matching color. Slowly Garrick started to chant, the words filling the room. Harry joined in, repeating the words as he heard them, his eyes sliding shut and his hands hovering over the table. Albus stood back and watched as a strong wind started to ruffle hair and clothing. A pure, white light burst from the table and joined the wind, whipping around the two standing at either end of the table. Slowly, the items in the runic circles rose into the air, their surfaces morphing and rippling as they changed. The light grew brighter by the second, blinding the old headmaster. The chanting grew in volume before dying out.

Harry stood at the table panting slightly, his ears ringing. His music had grown to an almost unbearable level as he had been chanting with Ollivander, but it had died away the second Harry had stopped. Taking a gulp of air, he opened his eyes, and his jaw dropped. Upon the table sat a gleaming staff, magic thrumming out from it.

The two woods were entwined, black and white swirling around each other in an eternal dance. Down the center of the maple wood sat a stripe of gleaming obsidian, and running the length of the black rosewood was the pearl. The staff was topped with two animals. A large ruby dragon curled around the top of the wood, it's wings were folded in and it stood, propped up on it's two front legs. It's eyes glowed with two pieces of emerald. Along it's back, slivers of obsidian and pearl contrasted with it's red body. Perched on the dragon's head stood an emerald phoenix. The wings were outstretched speckled with black and white, and it's eyes gleamed red.

Swallowing, Harry picked the staff up. The song in his ears roared to life in a triumphant symphony as the dragon and phoenix started to glow with power. Elation swept through him, and he felt like he was floating on air. The feeling lasted for a few seconds, before it faded into a whisper. Turning, the boy looked at the two men standing behind him, but was confused to see Albus rubbing his eyes, while Garrick was blinking rapidly.

"What happened?" the young Lord asked.

"What happened, was the most powerful bonding I have ever seen," Ollivander responded, a hand coming up to wipe at his eyes, "Every time a magical focus accepts a witch or wizard, they conjure an aura. The aura that your staff just created was the most brilliant and longest lasting ever, to my knowledge."

Harry grinned as he brought the staff to the floor. The head stood at just over six feet and Harry had to crane his neck slightly to even see the creatures at the top. His musings were broken by a soft vibration on his arm. Raising an eyebrow, Harry flicked his wrist, his wand snapping into his hand. Raising the wand, the three watched as tendrils of golden light flowed from the phoenix through the wand, and back to the dragon.

"Well, would you look at that, your staff and your wand accept each other. This is good," Garrick chuckled as Harry slid his wand back into the holster.

"You mean there was a chance that they wouldn't?" the boy asked.

Albus nodded, "Indeed Harry. I myself have a staff. I don't use it much anymore, but I have one. But it and my wand don't get along. I must use one or the other. You however, are at a huge advantage. A staff is best used for magic on a large scale, while your wand is more suitable for more direct magic. For example, if one were to use privacy spells for a conversation with a friend, one would use their wand. However, if one wanted to cast wards over a building or property, and had the ability to use a staff, they would use one."

Harry cocked an eyebrow, as he looked at the two men, "You speak as if magic is sentient."

"It is Harry, to an extant," Dumbledore said, his brow scrunching together, "I thought that was clear?"

Harry shrugged, "I mean, I know we've talked along similar lines, but, how can magic be sentient?"

Albus tilted his head, his stare fixed on the ceiling, a look of consternation, plastered on his face.

Finally, the old mage sighed, "I honestly have no answer, Harry. The only thing I can say is that it's Magic. Sentience is the only way to explain many things."

"Like the feelings people get about things, or the music I've been hearing ever since I started looking for my wand," Harry said, understanding dawning on his face.

Albus nodded while Garrick stared at Harry with an unblinking silver gaze. "Music?" the old wand maker asked, quietly.

Harry nodded hesitantly, his face showing his concern.

"Than it seems," Ollivander said in a near whisper, "That you are truly Merlin's heir, as he is the only person ever recorded to be so connected to Magic that he could hear her song."

Harry paused as a thought crossed his mind, "What about Afton Black. Wasn't he Merlin's best friend and the second person to be granted magic?"

Albus nodded, "Yes he was. But according to the history books, Afton Black was not a war mage, like Merlin. While Lord Emrys was keener to the more physically offensive side of magic, Lord Black found his calling in the more defensive magics, such as healing, the mental arts, warding, and charms. As such, while he may have had a connection to Magic as deep as Merlin, he didn't have the same communication style with magic that Merlin had."

"How did Magic communicate with him?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore shrugged, "The only thing he ever mentions in any of the writings that have been preserved was later in his life, where he said, 'The Voices, they calleth me.'"

Harry cocked his head, before shrugging it off. Picking up his new staff, he followed the two older men out to the front of the store where he payed the required 20 galleons. With that, he shook the wandmakers hand before following Dumbledore back onto Diagon Alley Proper. The crowds were starting to thin out as the sun started to descend towards the horizon. The walk back to The Leaky Cauldron only took a few minutes but it gave Harry a chance to calm himself down. He had already embarrassed himself in front of the goblin elder and he was surprised that he didn't get yelled at. He had almost lost it again in front of the Ollivander when the silver blade had been revealed, but he had managed to catch himself just in time. But honestly, he couldn't see why everyone thought he was a big deal. He was a freak and not worth the attention, but everywhere he went, people were staring at him, some trying to approach but balking when they saw the old Headmasters reproving stare. Harry pretended not to notice. The grip on his staff slacked a little as his head drooped. These people would soon see just how unworthy he really was and would abandon him, just as everyone else had.

Dumbledore was ambling along, a joyful smile on his face and a friendly twinkle in his eye, greeting almost everyone he saw. But inside, he was wishing for a stiff drink, if anything to settle his roiling stomach. He could tell that Harry was hiding himself behind a damn good mask, but Albus wasn't completely sure how to go around breaking that wall down. The mental control that Harry had displayed astounded Dumbledore to no end though. It seemed that Harry only had a little way to go before he would master Occlumency.

The gate way to the alley melted into existence when Dumbledore and Harry approached, allowing them to step into the small courtyard behind the pub. From there they entered the bar, and, waving to Tom, the two made their way up to Harry's room where Dumbledore extracted three small parcels from his pocket and placed them on the floor. With a twist of his wand, the three packages snapped to full sized trunks. The first was the Library trunk that Harry had taken from his vault, the one in the middle appeared to be a classic treasure chest, while the one on the right looked like a military footlocker.

"Alright, Harry, there are your trunks," the old man said, "Now the one in the middle is a multi-compartment trunk for your school supplies. I think you will find it most interesting. The one on the right is your wardrobe trunk. I took the liberty to stop at Muggle Dan's Muggle World, a shop run by a muggleborn that sells magical muggle style items, and pick up some muggle clothing for you. Don't worry, they are self-sizing. You can add your Wizarding robes when they arrive."

Harry nodded, wide eyed as he stared at the trunks. He turned to protest only to see the professor's back as he headed to the door.

"We have about an hour and a half before we head to the Weasley's Harry, so relax for a little while. I'll come get you when it is time to go. And don't you even think of trying to persuade me that you don't need any of that stuff, because it won't work."

With that the door closed behind the old mage leaving a dumbfounded Harry Potter.

LP:HoH

"Well Monarch, is it as bad as we feared?"

"No. It is worse. Much worse."

"How does this affect our plans?"

"Extremely."

"So, what's next?"

"I don't know, Galahad, I don't know."

LP:HoH

Harry sat on the floor of his room, dressed in a new pair of jeans and tshirt, twirling his new wand between his fingers, books lying open around him, and his first-year charms school book on his lap . Within the past hour, he had gone through about a quarter of the book. He had even tried two of the spells. The lumos spell had been extremely successful. The tip of his wand had lit up so brightly, he had spent several seconds regaining his vision. But the levitation charm just did not seem to work. He wondered idly if he was saying the incantation wrong, or perhaps the wand motion. Truthfully, he wasn't too worried. He knew that he would learn. Turning the page, Harry continued to read. The next spell was a severing charm one that seemed a bit dangerous but certainly seemed to have it's purposes.

He had just started to read through the history of the charm when a knock sounded at his door. At his beckoning, the door swung open and the Professor strode in. Albus glanced at the scene before him and smiled. Harry was sitting at the foot of his bed, his staff laying next to him, and it seemed that half of the contents of his library trunk was scattered around him.

"Reading enough, Harry?" Dumbledore asked amusedly.

Harry glanced around and smiled bashfully. Standing, he closed the book in his lap and started to pick up the various books as he spoke. "Is this dinner going to be formal, sir?" he asked nervously, "I really don't want to be offensive, but I also don't want to be known as 'Lord,' especially to friends."

Albus blinked, before letting out a deep belly laugh. "I highly doubt you need to worry Harry. The Weasleys are a fun loving family who do not really care for the formality of the high noble class, even though the could easily qualify as such."

Harry blinked, before a smile crossed his face. Dropping all his books back into his trunk, he turned, grabbed his new jacket, and after slipping his wand back into his sheath, faced the professor. Taking a moment, the old mage studied Harry from head to toe. His black hair was touseled and messy, but the famous scar was covered by his bangs. He was dressed in a pair of well-fitting jeans, a dark blue T-shirt sporting 'Keep Calm, and cast a Charm' across the front, A plain, powder blue button-down shirt worn open with the sleeves rolled up, a new pair of Converse shoes, and a bombers leather jacket completed the outfit. Albus cocked his head at the jacket. "Harry, you do realize it is summer right, and that with the jacket you'll have too many layers on for this weather?" he asked.

Harry flushed a little, and put the jacket back on the coat rack next to his bed. "Yes sir," he said, a little embarrassed, "I didn't think about that. I just thought that the jacket would look cool."

Albus shook his head with a mischievous grin, "Well, it looks more… hot… than anything else."

Several emotions played across Harry's face, before finally settling on a nervous snigger, and a dark pink tinge to his cheeks. Taking a second to try and calm his mind, the young lord started to head to the door, ready to properly meet the friends of his parents when he heard a slight cough behind him. Turning, he saw the Headmaster holding out his staff.

"There is one thing you must remember, Harry, you must always keep your magical focus on you at all times. You never know when you might need it. Yes, you must take it everywhere. Even into your classes," Albus said, a kind twinkle in his eye though his tone was firm.

Harry nodded and took his staff in hand before turning a questioning eye on his companion. Albus gave a small smirk before sliding his hand within his robe. Pausing for just a splint second, his hand reappeared gripping the shaft of a tall, pure white staff, as he released his magical aura. The wood appeared to be the same maple that made up part of Harrys own staff and a majestic phoenix carved out of a diamond adorned the top.

Harry's eyes opened wide, as he stared at the powerful wizard, standing proud before him. It was clear why the people seemed to hold him in such high regard. The warlocks robes were whipping around him in an invisible wind, as was his beard. The air around him was electric with power.

Inside, the young man cringed. How was he supposed to measure up, let alone surpass the man in front of him. Albus, seeing a glimpse of Harry's internal struggle, put the staff away, sliding it back into its extended pocket. With a small smile, the old man clapped a encouraging hand on his wards shoulder before leading the way out of the room and through the floo.

Harry rolled out of a fireplace and into a comfortable living room, amidst shouts and the pounding of feet. Standing quickly Harry, leapt to the side as a door burst open and two, stocky red headed boys appeared, both wearing extremely smug looks upon their faces. No sooner had they appeared, the two took off again, leaping behind another door. The fire flared green again and Albus stepped out just as the door burst open again, revealing a tall, skinny boy maybe four years older than Harry. The young man's green and silver hair was standing on end while hair sprouted from his ears and nose.

"Fred! George! Get over here and undo this, NOW!" the newcomer screamed, while Harry tried to stifle his snickering. Unfortunately, the older boy heard and whirled to find the source of the noise. Instead, his eyes found the amused form of the headmaster, and his brown orbs went wide. Straightening and plastering a formal smile on his face, the boy extended a hand and opened his mouth.

"HEE-HAW!"

Harry's eyes bulged, and he had to clamp a hand over his mouth to keep from exploding with laughter. Albus meanwhile just shook the young man's hand, who had clamped his free hand over his own mouth, in abject horror. With his usual kind twinkle, the old man asked, "Hello Percy. Are you getting enough water? it sounds as if you have a frog in your throat."

The newly identified Percy, turned red, and nodded his head as two sets of identical snickers sounded from behind him. The green haired young man turned back to face the original two who were obviously twins and snarled. "Get over hear you two," he hissed before his hand came to his throat. Turning back to Dumbledore, Percy opened his mouth, and again brayed like a donkey.

Albus nodded as if he had just made a grand discovery. "Ah, I see. Your brothers have decided to play another prank on you, haven't they?"

Percy nodded sullenly as Harry buried a hand in his mouth. If this was the sort of results a magical prank could create, he was going to have a lot of fun. He just hoped that Dumbledore was at least as ok with some harmless pranking as he seemed to be. He watched closely, as the professor pulled out his wand, and waved it in a complicated pattern over Percy's head. Slowly, the green and silver melted away leaving a bright shock of red hair, though it did stay standing on end, and the hair hanging from his nose and ears receded.

"There, my boy," the old man said genially, "I do believe I have dispelled the prank. Though I can do nothing more about your hair, it is not caused by any spell."

"Thank, you Headmaster," Percy said, his voice pompous, "It is good to see you again sir."

Dumbledore smile as the young man stalked away towards the door the twins had last been seen in. As soon as the door had closed behind the irate redhead, two sets of giggles rang out into the room. Turning the old man saw, Harry on the floor a hand over his mouth, and Ginny leaning against the door post from whence the first three redheads had emerged, giggling unabashedly.

"Honestly Miss Weasley, those twin brothers of yours are geniuses. They managed to set a tripwire spell on a series of charms that would only activate at my magical signature," Albus said, smiling.

Ginny grinned before moving to stand in front of Harry, who was picking himself off the floor. Dipping into a deep curtsy, the girl spoke, "Welcome to the home of the Head of the Ancient House Weasley, Milord Potter-Black."

Harry sputtered indignantly at the young girl while she giggled. "I thought I told you, no titles! Please?" His voice dropped to a meek tone as he threw a glance at the headmaster, who felt his heart break even more at the intense fear hidden in those large green eyes. Both were distracted from the pain filled moment though, when an exasperated sigh was heard.

"Ginny, don't tease Harry," Mrs. Weasley said as she stepped into the room. The portly woman gave the old headmaster a firm hug, before scooping up Harry and squeezing him, ignoring how the boy stiffened when she touched him.

When he was released, Harry found another pair of arms, wrapped around his neck.

"I'm sorry," Ginny whispered into his ear, "I just could not resist."

Harry grinned at her as she let him go. She blushed slightly before grabbing his hand and taking off, babbling about how she wanted to show him the house. Harry laughed and let himself get dragged along, noticing that a trio of red headed boys followed.

Molly Weasley watched the children as they disappeared through the door that lead to the stairs. She fondly shook her head at her daughter's enthusiasm, though amazed she had gotten over her shyness so quickly. But her smiled disappeared as soon as the door clicked behind her youngest son. Rounding on the headmaster, the woman growled, "What happened to that poor boy."

Albus sat heavily in a chair, "Molly, I made a terrible mistake."

LP:HoH

Harry gaped as Ginny led him back down the stairs of the rather large house. While there didn't seem to be much room on each, the house had many stories that compensated for the lack of floor space. The bedrooms were homely and well decorated, and the living spaces were comfortable. In short, Harry loved it. The house felt like it had the love of a family saturated into the very walls.

The three young men who had followed them had turned out to be Ginny's older brothers. The two older ones had been the twins that had blown past Harry when he had arrived and were named Fred and George. The third was Ron. He seemed to be a quiet young man, but Harry got the distinct feeling that he should be wary around him. He didn't know why, the redhead seemed friendly enough, but occasionally, Harry would catch a look in his brown eyes, that sent shivers down his spine.

His attention was brought back to the pretty young girl in front of him as she led the way back down the stairs. There seemed to be something about her that … drew him to her. He wasn't sure what it was, but he new that when ever she was near, the music in his ears, which he now knew to be his magic, sang with joy much like it had earlier when he had spoken with his betrothed, now that he thought about it. Harry couldn't explain it, but he knew that something important was going to happen that would include Ginny Weasley, sometime in somewhat near the future.

Unbeknownst to him, Ginny was having very similar thoughts as she led the way back into the living room. Her life had been almost consumed with the great Boy-Who-Lived. She had listened intently every night as her parents read to her from the Boy-Who-Lived books, and every night, she had imagined it was her that he had been rescuing. And when she had met him for the first time earlier, she had panicked. This was her hero! The man, boy, that she had been dreaming about! But then, after she had gotten her nerves back under control and had really paid attention to him, she found herself wanting to go give him a hug, to try and put a smile on his tired face. She had gotten her chance, briefly when he had talked to her right before she had to leave, but she felt like dancing for joy just from the barest touch he gave her. When her mother had led her away, Ginny was half expecting an explosion about her behavior, but Molly had simply smiled. And when Harry had arrived… Ginny flushed as she remembered how she had greeted him. She had been able to play it off as a joke, but she had told him the truth. She couldn't help herself, her body, or maybe her magic, had acted all on its own. It felt so right though, submitting to him. Maybe she wasn't supposed to be like her mother. Maybe she didn't want to be. That though scared her.

The group entered the parlor as Albus and Molly finished their conversation. The kids were curious as to why Molly looked so angry, but the woman simply smiled, and ushered them onto the various couches, and seats around the room, making sure to tell Harry to feel right at home, before heading to the kitchen. She shot the old man still wilting on the couch a glare when Ginny had to pull the raven-haired boy down into a seat at the wizards-chess table with Ron after he had tried to follow. After making sure that Harry and Ron were engrossed in a game, the ginger haired girl ran after her mother.

"Mum! What's going on! Why did I greet him like that, why do I feel like his happiness is the a high priority for me? Why am I so scared to have him be disappointed?" the girl babbled as she burst through the kitchen door and proceeded to pace the floor.

Molly sighed as she wiped her hands on a towel. She had sensed the something similar from the young man but clearly not as strongly as her daughter. The Weasleys had sworn a fealty oath to the House Potter generations ago, which meant the loss of their seat on the Wizengemot, but significantly added to their clout as a pureblood family. But this was something new, and as angry Molly was at a certain wizard who now graced her sofa, she needed his advice.

"I don't know Ginny," the woman answered, "I have to ask Albus. Wait here."

Returning to the sitting room, the woman tapped the old man on the shoulder, and motioned for him to follow. The two adults left the room, paying little attention to the rest of the occupants. The twins sat in a corner, discussing something in undertones, whilst throwing furtive glances in the direction of their older brother, who sat by himself his nose buried deep into a book. Ron and Harry sat at their chess game, seemingly completely oblivious to anything else.

Harry watched surreptitiously as the headmaster followed his host into the kitchen and had to fight to keep from following them. It had been made clear that he was expected to stay put, and besides, the song in his ears flared discordant whenever he made a move to help. The music he kept hearing intrigued him. At times, it would swell loudly, either a happy jig like when either the professor or Ginny were nearby, or painfully sour, like now, but it seemed most of the time, at least when he was in his room, it remained so quiet, he had to focus just to catch a few notes.

The young man rolled his neck as a particularly sharp note sent his ears ringing most unpleasantly as his table partner moved a rook.

"So, Lord Potter-Black, huh?" the red head asked coolly.

Harry nodded, moving a pawn, "Yeah, let me tell you it was really surprising."

Ron snorted, "Oh, I'm sure it was a huge surprise."

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly, "It was. Given that I had never heard of the magic until yesterday."

Disbelief shone in the redhead's eyes as he captured the pawn, "Right, and I'm the minister."

The table lapsed into silence again, but Harry kept his eyes on the boy across from him. A nerve had been struck, and try as he might, Harry could not keep the anger that was bubbling up inside away.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore and Ginny were standing at a counter, a pile of vegetables in front of them, while Molly flitted about, finishing the large dinner she had prepared, explaining the feelings Ginny had been feeling. Dumbledore listened silently, using his wand to quickly slice and levitate the vegetables into a nearby bowl while Ginny just watched on, grinning like a mad woman, the kitchen knife in her hand all but forgotten.

"… and we're not sure what could be causing these feelings," Molly finished, pulling a beautiful roast from the oven.

Dumbledore hesitated in his cutting, several thoughts running through his head.

"There are several reasons why she could be reacting this way," he said, resuming his task, "one could be that their magic finds that the two are a good match for each other, and with Harry being significantly stronger then even myself, it is producing these feelings in your daughter, or there may be some unknown debt between the Weasley line and the Potter line that has fallen to your daughter."

Molly froze in mid stride, almost losing her grip on the bowl she held. A secong passed, then two without anyone saying a word. Ginny stood at the counter, her eyes wide and her hands trembling. Is it possible her dream, her lifelong wish, could come true? Dumbledore, however, took that moment of silence to throw up a localized silencing ward around the kitchen. Both waited in suspense for the start of a famous Molly Weasley rant.

"Are you sure of that, Professor?" the matriarch stated quietly.

"Well, no. As I said it could be any number of things. I will do some checking and let you know?" the old wizard responded, throwing an askance glance at the younger red head.

"That would be appreciated," and with that the woman walked out the kitchen door.

Dumbledore canceled the silencing ward, stared at the door for a second, then turned to Ginny, opened his mouth before shutting it. The girl simply shrugged, picked up the salad bowl and followed her mother out the door. Albus waved his wand over the remaining vegetables, slicing them instantly, before taking the bowl out of the kitchen and into the dining room.

The atmosphere in the room was tense. Ginny was standing in a corner, tapping her foot nervously, staring at the chess table. The twins were huddled together, nervous looks on their faces as they threw furtive glances at the two players. The only two who did not seem bothered were Percy, sitting in his corner, his nose stuck in a book, and Molly, who was levitating silverware and water glasses onto the table, a thoughtful look on her face.

Albus set his bowl of vegetables on the table, and swiftly resumed his spot on the couch. Closing his eyes, the old man centered himself, focusing on his occlumency. Once he had cleared his mind of errant thoughts, he focused his magic into his eyes.

When he opened them, the world was awash with color. Everything had a color surrounding it. Smiling the professor examined the room. There were the twins, both surrounded in an identical shade of dark purple streaked with brown, Percy, surrounded with a dark yellow, Molly, a blindingly garish orange, Ginny, a dark pinkish red with a slight golden thread attaching her to Harry who was surrounded in a bright silver light, though a spot of pitch black hovered over his scar. Dumbledore sighed, just another reminder of his mistakes. Around the edges of Harry's aura though, Dumbledore noticed bits of scarlet. He would have to worry about that later. Closing his eyes momentarily to re-center his focus, Albus turned his attention to the golden thread.

It looked much like a debt connection, but it was not nearly bright enough to be considered one. However, it did give him a place to start. He glanced between the two once more, before turning his attention to the last person in the room. Ronald. Albus almost rubbed his eyes in exasperation but stopped himself in time. The youngest male Weasley was glowing a dark brown, the edges rippling with lime and scarlet. How such a bitter young man could be brought up in such a loving family astounded the wizard.

"Now, that you've got all that money, I bet your gonna go out to Diagon alley tomorrow and buy yourself the best robes offered. Wear them every day, strutting around like some pompous arse. You're not even a full pureblood!"

Albus winced as he heard the scathing words flow from, the young red head. That would explain the emotion colors in the two boys' auras, and the tense atmosphere. His focus broken, the colors faded from view. In the corner, Ginny stood up straight, her eyes turning flinty, the twins glared from their sofa. Molly whirled around her eyes narrowed and flashing.

Dumbledore noticed Harry flinch slightly when he caught sight of the rapidly reddening woman. "Well actually, I already have the clothes I need, and I haven't yet worn any robes, so I'm not sure how they will feel. I mean, they look a mite hot," the black haired young man responded.

"Oh, so now your too good for…"

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!" Molly's sharp voice interrupted, "upstairs to your room now! I will not have you speaking in that manner to any guest of ours! Your father will be hearing of this!"

Ron glared belligerently at his mother. He opened his mouth to retort when the front door burst open and Mr. Weasley walked in with Remus.

"Good Evening All! What a… I say, what is going on?" the patriarch exclaimed, looking around at the angry faces of his family and the careful masks of his two guests.

Ginny instantly sprung into action. Running to her father and throwing her arms around him, she cried, "Daddy! Ron insulted Harry! He called him a pompous arse!"

Arthur looked to his wife, "Is that correct dear?"

Molly jerked her head. "I have already told him to go to his room. You can deal with him after supper."

Ron's eyes bulged, "After supper, but…"

"You heard your mother," Mr. Weasley interrupted, his face impassive.

Ron stood from the table a nasty scowl creasing his brow. Without a word the boy stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Harry swallowed nervously as the thundering footsteps disappeared up the stairs, following another slam.

"Oi! Quiet!" Percy yelled, glaring at the ceiling before returning to his book. Another slam was the only response, but Harry swore he saw Ginny smirk against her father's torso.

Molly sighed sadly, before gathering Harry up in another hug. "I'm so sorry for what he said, Harry," the woman whispered, "I don't know what came over him."

Harry smiled, desperately keeping his panicked mind in check, "It's alright, Mrs. Weasley. I learned a long time ago to ignore insults."

Molly shook her head, "It's not alright, sweetie. But thank you for the thought."

Harry smiled at the woman as she released him.

"Well, now that we are all here, let's sit and eat, shall we?" Arthur said, a tired smile spreading across his face.

The group moved as one to the dining room table. Arthur sat at the head, Molly at the other end. Harry sat between Ginny and Remus, while Albus took the chair directly across from him, sitting between Percy, and the twins. As soon as the last person had sat, one of the twins grabbed a serving spoon and helped himself to a large helping of mashed potatoes. The other twin followed his example, as did Arthur and Ginny. Harry looked down the table to see Remus, Molly, and Albus doing the same. Swallowing, Harry grasped the spoon of the nearest dish, a wonderful looking casserole, and served himself a healthy portion. He replaced the spoon, only to have it snatched away by the girl to his right, while a masculine pair of hands placed another dish placed in front of him. Taking another portion, he passed the food on. Soon his plate was filled, and he started to eat with a relish.

"So, Harry," Arthur started, swallowing the bit of food in his mouth, "You grew up with Muggles, right?"

"Um, yes sir," the boy responded, an audible hesitation in his voice.

"Than could you perhaps tell me, what is the function of a rubber duck?" the red-headed man asked curiously.

All movement at the table paused for a second, all eyes either on Harry or Arthur. Harry for his part froze, all the attention sending unpleasant tingles running up and down his skin.

"Come again?" he croaked, stunned.

"Well, I have several in my workshop, much like this one here, and I have yet to figure out their use, other than looking rather cute," Mr. Weasley responded withdrawing a yellow rubber duck from his robes.

Harry swallowed his food rapidly, "Well, they are usually used as a bath toy."

Arthur's eyebrows rose, "A bath toy?"

"Yup," Harry affirmed, "It's usually given to a young child to distract them while their mother washes them."

His host stared at him for a minute, then stared at the duck. "It floats?" Mr. Weasley asked faintly.

Harry nodded, his mouth full of a delicious beef roast.

Arthur immediately withdrew his wand, and waved it in an intricate pattern. A bucket appeared next to his plate, and a single word later, was filled with water. The man placed his duck into the bucket and stared as the toy bobbed about.

"I can not believe I never thought to try that," he whispered while his wife pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Arthur, how many times have I said, no magic at the dinner table?" the woman said, exasperation coloring her voice.

"Yes, dear," Arthur sighed, retrieving the rubber duck and with a flick of his wand, the bucket vanished.

Harry just stared at the blatant display of magic, his fork dangling uselessly from his fingers. It was almost too much to think that he would be able to produce such feats.

The meal finished quite quickly after that. Remus proved to have a very dry sense of humor, and his quick and witty comebacks quickly had the table rolling with laughter. Dumbledore continually picked on the scarred man, allowing himself to be the butt of many jokes.

Finally, when all the plates were empty, and no one was taking any more food, Molly stood and waved her wand about, levitating the plates off the table. Ginny jumped to her feet and walked with her mother into the kitchen. The table sat quiet for a second before Harry turned to Remus.

"Mr. Lupin, how exactly did you know my father?"

Remus hesitated, swirling the water around his glass. The silence stretched on for several seconds, leaving Harry to wonder if he had done something wrong.

"Your father, myself, and Sirius Black were best friends when we were in school," the man finally whispered, emotion choking his voice. He said nothing more, and Harry didn't push. The pain in the mans eyes was all too apparent.

The room sank into uncomfortable silence. No one made eye contact with another as they waited.

The tension only lasted a moment and was broken when the door to the kitchen burst open, and Mrs. Weasley strode through, levitating trays and pans ahead of her. Ginny followed, a pitcher in each hand. The aroma followed only a fraction of a second later, and it set Harry's mouth to watering. The twins cheered as various deserts arranged themselves on the table. Dumbledore looked especially pleased as a small yellow colored pie centered itself in front of him.

Harry smiled at Ginny as she poured him a glass of a bright red liquid, and then another glass of a light orange color. She blushed cutely before pouring herself a glass of each.

Once everyone was seated, Arthur reached for a pudding, and everyone fell to the deserts with a hearty eagerness. Harry immediately spotted his favorite, a treacle tart, and served himself a large portion. A couple of cookies found themselves on his plate together with a small piece of chocolate cake. Grinning, Harry picked up his fork, stabbed at the cake, and brought the piece to his mouth.

An abrupt 'THOING' followed immediately by a loud 'splat' sounded from across the table. All movement stopped, and Harry looked up to see Albus sitting as still as a statue, his pie now dripping down his long beard.

Dumbledore, for his part, slowly brought a finger to his cheek, swiped at the mess, then stuck his finger in his mouth. His head rolled in obvious pleasure, and his eyes slid closed.

"Lemon Meringue," he whispered, "My favorite."

The tension vanished immediately, and the group burst out laughing, the twins subtly high-fiving each other under the table.

Through the noise, one could hear Arthur, "Isn't that my spring?"

LP:HoH

The time was late, and the sun had disappeared behind the hills. Harry sat on the couch in the Weasley's living room, his eyes heavy. Ginny was asleep, her head lolling on Harry's shoulder. The twins had vanished into their room almost an hour before, and Percy still had his nose in his book, though Harry was certain the older redhead was dozing. The adults were still sitting around the dinner table, finishing their last cups of tea.

Albus swallowed the rest of his lemon green tea with a pleased sigh. "It really is a good day when I spend a day at The Burrow," the old man said, keeping his voice low, "I just hope Harry will learn to like it hear as much as I do."

Molly smiled, her eyes scanning over the occupants of her living room. "I think he is already learning, Albus," she whispered, "The Potters have always been considered friends and allies of House Weasley, even before the vow."

A small chime from the wall had everyone glancing at the small clock sitting below the Great Weasley Family Clock. Albus's eyes widened slightly at the displayed time. It was getting very late, and Harry had an early morning date, with four girls. A small smile played across the professor's face. Harry had gotten the dream of almost every male in the planet, and the boy had almost blown a gasket. It spoke to his character, but the young man certainly had much to learn.

Standing, Albus smiled at the couple before walking to the living room. He looked down at Harry who met his gaze with his own. No word was spoken but Harry nodded and gently lifted Ginny off of his shoulder, softly laying her down onto the couch. Walking over to the table, Harry held out his hand to Arthur. "Thankyou for having me, Mr., Mrs. Weasley. I thoroughly enjoyed myself," he said.

Molly pulled him into a hug. "You have three months until you go to school. Come by anytime you want, Harry. Our house is always open to you," the woman said, releasing him. "And so," she continued, touching his face and locking his eyes with hers, "I expect you to come by at least three times between now and the first of September. You are family to us. The Potters have always been family to us."

Harry looked into the warm brown eyes of the woman. He saw nothing but sincerity and something he couldn't identify but it made him feel safe. Fighting an unsuccessful battle with the tears pooling in his eyes, Harry threw himself back into the woman's arms.

"Thank you," the boy whispered fervently, "thank you, thank you, thank you." Then Harry bolted, almost forgetting to grab his staff in his rush to get to the fireplace.

"Harry!" Albus called after him.

Harry ignored him, grabbing at the pot of floo powder and hurling some into the embers.

"Leaky Cauldron," he choked, stepping into the now roaring green flames and with a flash, he was gone.

Albus hurried to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of the pale green powder. Right before he could toss the powder in, a strong hand grabbed his arm and shoved him bodily against the wall. Burning brown eyes glared into his concerned cerulean.

"Albus, what the bloody hell were you thinking!"

LP:HoH

Tom, the friendly owner of the Leaky Cauldron, was closing down for the day when his floo erupted in a blaze of emerald. The barkeeps wand was in his hand as a black-haired figure was spat out of the fireplace. The figure staggered to its feet, and headed to the stairs, a staff hanging from limp fingers.

"Lord Potter?" Tom asked as the boy blew past him, literally. Magic swirled in the wind, blowing loose papers and napkins around the pub.

Harry took the stairs two at a time. He needed to get to his room, he couldn't let the emotion show. He could not be weak. He pushed open the door of Room 10 and collapsed just inside tears streaming down his face. How could he have been so stupid. Now the Weasleys would see just how weak he was and would turn their backs, just like everybody else. He sniffled. But they had called him family, and family didn't do that to each other, did they? His short stint on the streets had shown that his relatives were horrible examples of what a true family was. But was what he had seen really a true family?

He hauled himself to his feet and crossed the room to the full-length mirror in the corner. His reflection stared back at him, looking scared and broken. His cheeks were tear stained, and his eyes red, but as he stared at his image, his green orbs seemed to flash with light. Memories surged to the forefront of his mind:

A staircase faded in and out of focus in front of him. His hands were tied to the bannister, but that was no surprise. His shirt lay where it had been thrown, baring his torso for the world to see. A searing pain ripped itself from his right shoulder down to his left hip. Harry flinched but made no sound. He was used to the pain of metal on skin.

"Turn your teachers hair different colors, will you," Vernon hissed, belt held tightly in his hand.

"Uncle Vernon, please, I didn't do it," the boy whispered.

The buckle of the belt rose and fell again, leaving another gash across the scarred back. Harry winced, but not a sound escaped.

"Shut up, freak! You and your evil, unnatural powers have embarrassed me and my family!"

Meaty hands grabbed Harry's bonds and tore them apart. Grabbing the unruly black hair, Vernon dragged the brat to the door and threw the boy out.

"Don't ever let us see your face again, freak," the fat man growled, "Your unnatural and you don't belong anywhere. It would be better if you simply died like you worthless parents." The door slammed shut leaving the hunched figure of a boy on the front step.

Harry stood shakily, using a hand on the step railing to steady himself. Pausing only a second to pull on the t-shirt he had snagged off the floor, the 8 year old walked down the road.

A tear slipped down the boy's cheek. He stared into His reflection's eyes, but they looked broken. Fractals seemed to spiral out from his pupils, shattering the green irises.

'Now do you see,' a musical voice whispered in his ear, the lullaby playing in the distance increasing, 'You have found a place where you belong and can be yourself. Now, just prove the fat one wrong.'

Harry spun around looking for the one who had spoken.

'I am not there, son.'

"Who are you," Harry asked.

'I am everyone, but no one, I see, a speak, but I am not. Do not worry, little one, I will not harm you. Now, sleep.'

LP:HoH

In a large manor, just north of Wiltshire, a man wiped his brow with a pristine handkerchief. Walking to the near by cabinet, he placed the neatly coiled whip in its designated location, before closing and locking the door. Turning to the blonde figure of a female, chained to a post, he surmised his handywork. Bloody streaks criss-crossed the woman's back, the whip strokes clear against the alabaster skin. Bruises were forming across her ribs, and her wrists were rubbed raw. With a small smile he turned away, leaving five words hanging ominously in the air.

"Never forget, who owns you."


End file.
